A Rebel's Wife She'll Be
by Dedicated follower
Summary: Ireland, 1919. Edward Cullen, respected doctor, upstanding member of society and secret leader of the Irish Republican Brotherhood. With his brothers, Emmett and Jasper, Edward wages a guerrilla war against the local forces of the British Crown. Focused on the struggle for freedom, Edward has no time for romance. Will anyone change his mind? Conflict and battles but a HEA!
1. The Pale Moon Was Rising

**This story is set during the War of Irish Independence which started in 1919, three years after the Easter Uprising of 1916. Ireland was in chaos with the Irish Republican Brotherhood waging guerrilla war under the command of Michael Collins. This was a particularly bloody time in Ireland's history and brought out both greatness and terror.**

Dark clouds slid over the full moon, temporarily plunging Dingle town into darkness. Taking advantage of the momentary cover, a man slid carefully along the road, glancing about him and clutching a sacking wrapped package to his chest. Reaching an alley, he slunk along the rough stone wall, groping in the darkness for the door he had entered a thousand times. The small wooden gate swung noiselessly on carefully oiled hinges and the man edges his way across the garden. Tapping cautiously on a darkened window, he made his way to the porch. Another door opened and the man sidled in, pulling it closed behind him. Immediately a bright light shone in his face, causing him to bite back an involuntary gasp. Blinking, his focus was drawn towards a tall figure seated at the end of a long wooden table. Dressed in a dark suit, the figure would have been at home in a bank or an office, not sitting at a kitchen table in a country house in the West of Ireland. Recognition dawned and the man snapped to attention, saluting smartly.

'Sir!"

"Ah Michael, stop with the name calling" said the seated man," haven't you known me all my life?"

"I have indeed and it is my honour to admit it. It was a great day when you came back, Edward Cullen."

"Sure and how could I have stayed in London and missed all the fun?"

Michael laid his package carefully on the table, noticing for the first time as he did so that the room was full of darkly clad men. One in particular leaned against the mantelpiece, his focus betrayed by the tense coil of his body. Edward stood up and, pulling the bundle gingerly towards him, opened it up. The candlelight shone on five Mauser rifles, deadly and sleek against the rough sacking.

"Ah..." He said in satisfaction. "Good work Mikleen. And with these lads, we'll cause some merry havoc. The lads at the barracks in Tralee won't know what hit them.'

Edward Cullen, twenty five, respected recently qualified doctor and son of Dingle's famously talented medic, Dr Carlisle. By day Edward was a stalwart ornament of Kerry society, member of the local hunt and devoted son. By night, he dropped the mask of respectability and transformed into the local leader of the Irish Republican Brotherhood, terror of the Royal Irish Constabulary and a courageous fighter for Ireland's freedom.

Edward beckoned to the man lounging by the fire.

"Come over here, Jasp, see what Emmett's sent us for Christmas."

Jasper strolled over to the guns, a look of sheer glee lit up his face. Stretching out his hand, he stroked the wooden stock of the Mausers. Picking up one, he raised it to his shoulder and closed an eye, sighting as he swung the muzzle towards the window.

"Not bad", he said laconically, "At least bloody Emmett isn't spending all his time in New York fooling around this time."

Edward grinned at his brother. "Don't say that too loudly son, if Rosalie hears a whisper of any playing, we'll be searching the bogs for the remains of his body."

Jasper nodded, lowering the rifle and placing it reverently back on the pile. A sharp crack at the window made all the men freeze. Jasper immediately snuffed out the light and the room was filled with darkness, relieved only by the glowing embers of the turf fire. The door opened slowly and a figure swathed in a dark coat was silhouetted against the moonlight. The men tensed and Jasper slowly raised a hand gun.

"Well now, is that any way to greet a guest?" a female voice demanded.

"Mother of God, Alice, I nearly shot you. What the hell are you doing here?" Jasper managed.

Light was restored and the men gazed at the disguised figure of Alice Cullen, Jasper's wife. She was almost drowning in a huge greatcoat which Jasper recognised as being one his father had long since discarded.

"I got a note pushed under the door. Sergeant Riley says that there's someone coming up from Tralee this night. Be careful, he says. I thought I'd come and warn you."

"You did right, girl" said Jasper, looking at his wife with total adoration. Married for a year, they were like two halves of one heart and never bothered hiding their love. Dingle wasn't used to outward displays of affection and Alice had been taken aside more than once by local busybodies and advised to "control her husband and stop making a show of herself." Each comment was met with a polite nod and utterly ignored.

Edward covered the guns and carried them upstairs where they joined a growing cache under the floorboards. As silently as they had come, the men dispersed. Jasper and Alice left last. Hand in hand, they strolled up the road, for all the world looking like two innocent lovers out for a romantic wander. Jasper whistled softly under his breath, one hand warm in Alice's and the other on the reassuring metal of his gun.

Alone in the house, Edward banked up the turf, yawned and thought briefly and with a sharp pang of envy that it would be nice to have someone to share his life with. He didn't want Emmett and Rosalie's drama and, if he was going to be truthful, Alice's petulance could drive him mad, but they were content in their relationships. He shook himself, this was not the time to be thinking of love. There was a war on and he, Edward Cullen, was going to play his part. When it was over, maybe then he could look for a life partner. Until that time, his focus would be on the fight.


	2. One Sunday After Mass

**Gosh, seems like a lot of you are interested in Irishward (Rebelward?!) This story will play fast and loose with history but the main facts will be correct. Dingle is in the Gaeltacht (Irish speaking area) and although we do speak English, we tend to pepper it with a bit of Irish. Assume that they are all terms of endearment or insults and you won't go wrong!**

"Bella a chara, come on, we'll be late and Father Moran will give out again!" bellowed Kitty.

Throwing her hairbrush on the bed in frustration, Bella grabbed her hat and clattered down the stairs where her cousin was waiting. No one in Dingle wanted to risk the wrath of their elderly priest. Beloved and feared in equal parts, Father Moran had been around for longer than anyone could remember. He had a fearsome temper but Bella would always be grateful for his kindness that terrible day when her parents hadn't returned from what was supposed to be a much longed for trip to Dublin. They had been caught in a road block which had degenerated into a shoot out between the Irish Republican Brotherhood and the Royal Irish Constabulary. A stray bullet had killed Bella's mother outright and grievously wounded her father. The RIC wouldn't let the local people help and he died alone on the side of the road.

Bella had managed to pick herself up and had continued her parents' printing business with steely determination. Dreams of college went by the wayside as she grappled with the intricacies of the lead type and tried to coax the massive press into working for her. She had grown up around type, printing was in her blood. Before her parents had moved down to the West from Dublin, they had run a massively successful press, even printing for Mr W.B. Yeats himself. A change of pace and a return to her father's childhood home had inspired the move. Bella loved the quiet pace of Dingle, the shimmering grey sea and the way that the light danced on the peaks of Mount Brandon. Kitty yearned for the bright lights of Dublin and couldn't wait to escape from what she described as the "back end of nowhere" but Bella felt that she had found her place in the world.

Slamming the door behind them, the girls ran along the road, the steel segs on their Sunday boots tapping along the pavement as they went. Bella could feel her carefully constructed plait unravelling but a half-up-half-down hairdo was infinitely preferable to a public scolding. Halting as they reached the 'lads', a group of sixty-something year old men who lounged at the wall of the church in their shiny with age Sunday suits, the girls recovered what remained of their decorum. Drawing a breath and entering the church, both girls genuflected and sidled down to a half empty pew, delighted that the altar was still empty. The bells stopped, everyone rose and they were plunged into an hour of barely comprehensible Latin and garbled responses.

The air grew heavy with incense and Bella found herself drifting off into a reverie. She came to after a sharp dig in the ribs and a hissed "look!" from Kitty drew her attention to a tall man stalking down the aisle for communion. Edward Cullen. God but he was gorgeous. You'd have to be either blind or dead not to appreciate a man like that: Tall, broad shouldered and utterly charming. She glanced down at her bitten nails and fingers still dark with printer's ink, despite the scrubbing. The moon would turn to cheese before he'd look at someone like her: An orphan, scruffy as an alley cat and working in a man's industry to boot. Ah well, a cat can look at a king she thought.

Mass drew to a close and the congregation flooded into the street to gossip and catch up on the latest news. New babies, new partnerships, new cattle were all discussed in avid detail. Bella and Kitty linked arms, sauntering through the crowds. They stopped here and again to greet a neighbour or a potential client. All the time, Bella was painfully aware of Edward Cullen. He was constantly at the centre of the crowd, laughing and chatting, flanked by his brother Jasper and the prettiest girls of the town.

"Spoilt brat" hissed Kitty quietly. "He behaves like a lord."

Bella watched him, admiring his quiet confidence and the easy way in which he greeted newcomers. As though he felt her gaze, Edward lifted his head and, for a moment, their eyes met. Bella felt as though she had been turned to stone, unable to drag herself away. She felt the embarrassment rising and knew that she was turning bright red. A tug on her arm brought her back to reality.

"Jaysus Bella, what is wrong with you? Mooning at Edward Cullen like a love-sick calf. And in front of the Courtneys too. You know what Mrs Courtney's like, it'll be all over Dingle by the morning!"

Pulling her cousin by the hand, Kitty led her away from clacking tongues to the relative safety of the main street. The two girls walked casually home, Kitty making up for Bella's total lack of conversation.

Bella was in turmoil. What had just happened? One thing she knew for sure: she knew that what she had felt when her eyes met his was special. There was more to the man than the surface revealed and she wanted to uncover the hidden depths of Edward Cullen.


	3. Dingle Bay

**I am overwhelmed by your support! Sunflower Fran, you are as bright and sunny as your name, thank you for the recommendation! There will be highs and lows. This is a story based at a time when Ireland was struggling for independence, if you find the topic stressful, please do avoid reading and don't upset yourself. Dingle is in Country Kerry in the South West of Ireland. God's own country. If you ever get the chance to go, grab it with both hands and know that you've found heaven on earth (with maybe an Edward-Angel)**

Edward gently extricated himself from the group of gossiping women, dodging invitations to "come and take tea" or to "have a look at my new hunter" as he did so. After years of being "introduced" to any single woman within a fifty mile radius, he had got evasion down to a fine art. Turning down Emmett's offer of a ride home, he strode out along the road which wound along the bay towards his parents' house.

The whistle of the wind through the dry stone walls and rising white horses out on the waters of Dingle Bay reflected his turmoil. What on earth had just happened? Staring like a teenager at some poor girl. He had spent so long controlling his emotions that the sudden lurch of desire had taken him totally by surprise. He was horrified at the force of the yearning he had felt for this unknown girl. He was an educated doctor, not a caveman for God's sake! The force of his frustration made him lash out at the flower-laden hedgerows but the blow had no effect and the vibrant fuchsia seemed to dance away, nodding its head, mocking him.

The gravel crunched under his feet as Edward made his way up the driveway, skirting Emmett's latest motor-toy as he did so. Pushing open the double doors of the grey Georgian house and about to cross the threshold, he was assailed by an elderly lady in black who waved a wooden spoon at him.

"Wipe those muddy boots, boy. Was it brought up in a stable you were?"

"Ah Maggy" he sang, grabbing her by the waist and waltzing her around the hall, "Sure and wouldn't that make me the Son of God?"

"Thanks Son" his father Carlisle called from the drawing room where he was lounging in a large leather chair, his elegant hands holding an incongruously tiny sherry glass. "I've been called many things and that is high praise indeed but I'll thank you to unhand Maggy or we'll never eat."

Grinning, Edward kissed the elderly lady on the cheek and let her go, receiving a whack with the spoon in return. Maggy had been their housekeeper for as long as Edward could remember. Her fierce devotion to the Cullens was a close second to her love of her country. He grown up learning stories of the terrible famine and the cruelty of the Anglo-Irish absentee landlords at her knee and the seeds of nationalism had taken root in his very being.

Walking into the drawing room, Edward faced the assembled crowd. He knew that there was no escaping this one.

"Well now lover boy…" Jasper began the torment. "We saw you making eyes at Miss Bella."

Bella. Now she had a name and it was perfect. He remembered the way that the morning sun had caught the glossy reflections of her hair. Beautiful indeed.

"Oh yes, he's gone!' laughed Alice.

Edward shook himself and was about to defend himself when soft hands encircled him and his mother's voice said softly,

"Ah leave him alone. He's been surrounded by all our happiness for so long that isn't it fair that he gets a share of his own?"

Turning to meet his mother's green eyes, Edward smiled and kissed her.

"Mammy's little pet" taunted Emmett. Back from New York, Edward's eldest brother had wasted no time in resurrecting friendly family rivalries.

Laughing, the family followed their mother into lunch.

"Maggy, you've done us proud" declared Carlisle. Golden potatoes rose in profusion from a large bone china dish and the scents of plump carrots dripping with butter and peas which had been picked from the garden that very morning mingled with the glorious steam rising from a huge joint of beef. Sitting at the head of the table, Carlisle applied his surgical skills to the meat, slicing into it with precision. Emmett groaned quietly, earning himself a sharp glare from his wife.

Everyone served, the family made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads.

"Praise be to you Oh God who has given us so much. We thank you and ask you to be with us now and forever"

"Amen" chorused the family. The words had barely left their lips before Emmett stretched out a long arm and speared the closest potato with his fork.

"Emmett Cullen you big Culchie!" hissed Rose "Behaving like a pig again."

"Is that what they taught you in New York, Boy?" asked his father mildly. Shamed, Emmett muttered an apology. Lunch went on, the family laughing and retelling old stories. After a massive apple pie had been demolished, Carlisle repeated Grace and they made their way back to the drawing room. Taking advantage of a quiet moment, Edward pulled Alice over to a window seat where the family had the habit of sharing confidences.

Looking out at the increasingly wild sea and the rain lashing against the window, Edward muttered a quick prayer for anyone out on the ocean. The fishermen would all be safe back in Dingle and the Blasket Islanders never ventured out on a Sunday in their frail curraghs. It was a miracle that those crafts made of pitch, skins and wood had managed to make it all the way to America. The Islanders were a breed apart, hardy and tough with the quiet inner strength of country people.

Alice distracted him from his musings. "You'll want to know all about Bella?" she started. He nodded, fixing her serious face with concern. This was not starting well.

"She's a force of nature. Her parents were killed in a roadblock. You remember the story?"

He did. He'd been in London when it had happened and it had fueled his desire to get home and fight for his country's freedom. How could he stand by and watch as his people suffered?

"Be careful a stor," said Alice seriously. "She's a wounded bird and you have an awful lot more to be thinking of now. You can't drag her into our world."

Edward thought about the strong face he'd seen below the ridiculous hat. She didn't look like weak to him but Alice was right, the struggle was bigger than his own small wants. He would focus on the coming fight and leave Miss Bella in peace. Resolved he turned to Alice.

"Don't worry darling girl. I know where my priorities lie."

But even as he said the words, he recognized that the world had shifted for him. His priority now was finding Miss Bella and making her his.


	4. The Kettle on the Hob

**Gosh what support this story has received. I am truly blessed, thank you!**

Humming loudly and tunelessly, Bella focused her entire attention on peeling the remaining apple for her pie in one strip. Her floury arms rested on the scarred wooden table and sun shone in from the window set deep in the cottage walls. Finished… success! Laughing at her own superstition, Bella stood up, scraping the chair back on the flagstone floor with a screech that sent the cat flying. Closing her eyes, she muttered "show me the name of my love" as she threw the peel behind her.

"Looks like your true love could be called squiggle..." a deep voice from behind her made Bella spin around, eyes wide with fear.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Then gathering herself up, she pointed at the interloper with the apple peeler.

"Who are you and what in the name of all the saints are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Sorry, sorry, Miss Bella, I didn't mean to shock you. Blessings of the day, I'm Edward Cullen. I tried to knock but you must have missed it over the… ahem… music. My sister told me that you were the one to come to for printing."

Bella was mortified. Singing had never been her strength and now this glorious man had caught her wishing on stars and for a lover too! If the cottage had been possessed of an escape route, she would have been through it and would be racing away up the mountain in mortification. As it was, the front door hadn't been used in years and Edward Cullen's broad shoulders were currently blocking the back. There was no getting away; she would have to brave it out. Kicking the peel out of the way with the toe of her boot, telling herself that she had a guest in the house and her mother would have never let anyone in without offering hospitality, she drew herself up and asked:

"Well now, as you're in my kitchen, will you have a cup of tea and tell me your business?"

"I will and gladly."

She gestured to a chair and the man sat. Close up he was even better looking than she'd thought. He had dark red hair, like bracken on a wet day and his green eyes danced with amusement.

Bella turned her back to move the kettle back on to the range and busied herself rinsing out the old brown teapot and getting the cups. He'd come to the kitchen so she certainly wasn't getting the good china out now! Pottery would have to do. She spooned the leaves into the fat belly of the teapot and tried desperately to remember whether there was any sugar left in the canister after her frenzied baking. Fortunately, the kettle was never far from the hob and boiled quickly, the shrill whistle piercing the silence. Wetting the tea, she covered the pot with the woolly tea cosy her mother had knitted and turned back to Edward.

As she turned, he quickly moved his head. Had he been staring at her? Surely not.

Pouring the tea into the cups and serving the waiting man, she sat at the opposite end of the table and let him speak.

"You don't know me, and I am sorry again for bursting in on you. I came back from London a few years ago but I've been off and on in Dublin. Now I'm back and I want to start helping out my Daddy with his practice."

Bella nodded. There didn't seem to be anything she needed to say.

"I need your help. I went around a few of the cottages last week and there is desperate hardship. People aren't starving but they have no idea of how to look after their sick and they're afraid they can't afford the medicine if they do seek help. I saw a poor lady last week with a tiny girl, nothing to her but skin and bone. She'd managed to pick up some kind of parasite and was wasting away. We can cure all this now and people are suffering needlessly."

Bella watched Edward carefully as his face lit up with passion. This was no spoiled brat. He might be treated like a prince but he was far from acting like one.

"So why are you here? I'm a printer not a nurse!" she said, confused.

"Exactly" he said as though it were completely obvious. "We're going to print instructions, what to do in case of emergency, how to treat small infections, how to recognise the signs of illness."

"Minor problem" she said "many of the older people beyond Dingle can't read." She paused. "But the children can, and they have English now when they come in to school. We'll teach them and they can teach their parents."

Edward's face darkened when she mentioned the children speaking English at school, Irish was dying and parents were ashamed to have their children speaking their native tongue. He'd heard of children being beaten by teachers for speaking their own language. His mother was very involved with the revival movement but it was too little too late. He lightened as she proposed her plan, the thought of working alongside Bella made his heart swell.

"You're a good woman Miss Bella."

"Ah go 'way" she muttered, staring down into her cup as though the secret of life lay therein.

They looked at each other, tongue tied. Suddenly every sweet phrase Edward had ever heard lost its meaning. The City girls he had romanced had fallen for his honeyed words but he couldn't bring himself to fool this girl. She was a different creature to the women he'd met in London.

How could he describe his feelings to this woman without sounding like a looper? What would he say? How about: " I barely know you but I want to share my life with you and by the way I am the leader of the South Kerry IRB, head of the flying columns and likely to be shot by the RIC at any time. Will you join me and share my happiness and pain?" No man could ask that of a woman.

He was spared the possible humiliation of his confession by the back door opening. Kitty burst in, shaking the rain off her like a wet dog.

"God be praised it's soft weather we're having."

Bella glanced out of the window, realising that it was indeed raining. "Soft weather" covered a multitude of sins, from a light drizzle to a deep haze of droplets which covered the peninsula. It was so called because the rain mist gave a softness to the landscape, veiling the bushes and rocks with a light grey web. The tops of the mountains would disappear and a stillness would blanket the little town, punctuated only by the distant, echoing bleats of sheep left out on the crags.

On a day like this, there was nowhere better to be than in the kitchen. And specifically for Bella in this kitchen, surrounded by the furniture her mother had cherished and had brought down from Dublin. The pine dresser, heaving with her precious collection of blue and white china, the framed picture of the Sacred Heart with His precious light glowing red, the collection of curling postcards which Bella had sent from her trips to visit cousins in London. She had never thought that her home could be better, and yet… the addition of a tall figure at the end of her table completed the picture. It was as though he belonged here, with her, and she never wanted him to leave.


	5. Market Day

Market day in Dingle was always something to look forward to; the town would explode with life with people flocking in from all over the peninsula. The focus was the livestock market; farmers from far and near would bring their beasts in to sell, hoping for a good price to see their family through the lean days of winter. There would be time to meet, great and commiserate or celebrate once the auction was done and the bar owners would be counting their florins at the end of the day.

Walking down the Main Street towards the auction, glancing at some of the stalls selling trinkets and ribbons set up by visiting peddlers, Bella noticed the small knots of men gathering, speaking in hushed tones, dispersing and reforming. Something strange was going on today. Kitty gripped her arm as the cousins made their way through the crowd.

Entering the market, Bella was overwhelmed by the stench of hot and panicked animals and men who had spent far too long without a wash. The main auction ring was encircled by country men in their best suits. Faces tanned and lined by the harsh Western winds, they talked quietly amongst themselves, assessing beasts and swapping stories.

The animals were led in lot by lot, some gathering murmurs of praise, others met by the silence of derision. The cousins watched the action closely, their Dublin eyes widening as they saw the reality of country life; your livestock were part of your family and parting with them was a desperate decision to make but the sale would make the difference between famine and feast for your children.

Bella glanced around the auction ring, identifying the owner of the next lot, his tense eyes betrayed the panic his mind. The cattle were poor looking beasts. Good for nothing really. The auctioneer's voice rose and fell, the words blending into each other like a river of sound. She looked closely at the man; his knuckles were white as they gripped the rail. Her eyes were soft as she watched the pitiful scene. Suddenly, the cadence of the auctioneer's voice changed and a ripple of excitement ran around the room. The gavel came down at an extraordinary price and the poor man sagged with relief.

The whisper went around "sure and didn't the doctor's boy buy Finn's heifers! Isn't it blind that he must be, well now, you wouldn't give even a tenth of the sale for poor beasts like that!"

Bella caught the end of the rumour. Without turning she could sense his presence; he was here and her total focus was drawn towards him. The sounds of the auctioneer dimmed in the distance, all she could see was Edward Cullen. Tall and confident in his tweeds, he moved amongst the farmers like a prince, greeting and shaking hands as he went.

"Bella, the blessings of God and Mary this day" his warm voice rose above the din as though they were the only two people present.

"Edward. That was a good thing you did there. Don't deny it."

"Ah well…" he said diffidently "sure and isn't Padraig counting on those beasts to keep the family through the winter? 'Twas little that I did. They'll be great animals altogether with a bit of food."

Bella bit back the obvious denial that leapt to her lips and looked down. She didn't know how to behave with this man. As if he sensed her confusion, Edward stepped back.

"Ah Miss Kitty!" he said loudly "beautiful you are looking this day. Can I escort you two ladies home?"

As Edward spoke, a frisson went through the sale. A group had appeared by the entrance. Led by a miserable looking Sergeant Reilly, a smart looking man in military uniform surveyed the crowd with a couple of similarly dressed men flanking him. Edward steeled himself. This had to be the man he'd been warned about. Time to play a part. Bending down, as though fastening a shoelace, he hissed to the cousins "go away now, don't get involved and don't be seen with me."

Immediately and without question, Bella gripped Kitty by the hand and moved quietly back into the crowd that thronged the ring. As they moved, they saw Edward striding toward Sergeant Reilly, a look of bonhomie on his face. They heard his words before moving out of earshot; "Ah Sergeant, 'tis yourself and you have fine company I see..."

Bustling back up the road, the girls watched the groups around them and were more aware than ever that something odd was going on.

"Not our business a stor" said Kitty firmly, leading her cousin back up towards the cottage. "Stay out of trouble and all will be fine."

"Kitty, you'd say this to me?" her face on fire, Bella could barely suppress her emotions. "After what happened to my parents, may their souls rest in peace? Your own family? Edward Cullen might be willing to make friends with them but 'twill be a cold day in hell before I will bow down."

Kitty sighed, knowing her cousin but recognising the dangers. They were two women alone and the last thing they needed was the eye of suspicion falling upon them. Just when the day couldn't get worse, a voice greeting them:

"Fine day girls! Just the ones I was hoping to see!" Sighing and facing the inevitable, the girls smiled at Mrs. Courtney, gossip of the Western World.

"Didn't I see you sharing looks with the Doctor's son after mass on Sunday? Sure and isn't he a fine figure of a man? Wouldn't he tempt the devil himself? He'll be back looking for a wife now. Those find city girls wouldn't hold a man like that!"

Sighing to herself, Bella faced up the older woman. "Well now Mrs. Courtney, I wouldn't know about that but aren't we blessed to have two doctors? There'd be many parishes crying out for that."

Silenced, Mrs. Courtney drew her shawl around herself and smiled thinly. "Blessed we are, thanks be to God." She moved to the side, allowing the girls to pass.

"Ha, you silenced her" whispered Kitty gleefully, digging her cousin in the ribs and snickering to herself.

Reaching the church, both girls blessed themselves as they walked past. They were close to home and Kitty for one would not be sorry when this day was over. Bella was mulling over Edward's words, why should she not be seen with him? God forbid that he was a collaborator. Her breath caught, if he wasn't with them, could he possibly be a rebel?


	6. Roisin Dubh

**I love your reviews! Thank you SO much. I can't believe that you are all taking the time to reach out to me and recommend this to your friends. Thank you…**

Edward hovered in front of his father's office door before knocking.

"Come in."

He hesitated in the doorway, scuffing the toe of his show on the carpet like a child waiting to be scolded.

"Daddy, I need to speak to you."

Carlisle put down the book he was reading, carefully marking his place and adding it to the stack threatening to topple off his desk. Lowering his half-moon glasses, he studied his youngest child. Edward had always been the one to worry about: Emmett took life as it came, Jasper used his charm to make the world work for him, but Edward had taken life seriously right from the beginning. As a small child, he used to organise himself meticulously, carefully packing his leather satchel the night before school so nothing was forgotten. His attention to detail was incredible and his total focus in games of strategy meant that no one would play him at chess unless they fancied being thrashed. His fierce intelligence, coupled with his instinctive desire to help the weak had moulded the boy into an impressive man. It was his self-sacrificing nature and iron control that worried Carlisle; the man should remember that he was a human from time to time!

Edward shuffled across the room and sat in the twin of Carlisle's dark green chesterfield chair, sinking gratefully into its deep back. The logs cracked merrily in the grate, the occasional loud pop breaking the silence as Carlisle waited for his son to share whatever was making him so nervous. Another man would have stepped in but he knew that Edward would frame his thoughts better without interference.

"Daddy… I can't think straight…" Edward began.

Carlisle again waited, tenting his fingers together as he watched the internal struggle reflected on Edward's face.

"I love her. I want to be near her. I think about her all the time!" he blurted out.

Carlisle sat up. He didn't need to ask who. It was perfectly obvious to everyone except the man himself that Edward was head over heels with Miss Bella.

"Well son, what are you going to do about it? She's a girl without a protector. I needn't tell you that you could destroy her life."

Edward shot up as though electrocuted. "What? I would never… how could you think…."

"Musha calm yourself!" said his father. "I'm just pointing out the facts. We need to be careful and you in particular need to think about your other concerns."

"Well the practice is taking up some time but I can manage."

Carlisle glared at his son. "Was it yesterday you think I was born, buddy? You and your brothers don't think that I know all about what you're getting up to when you are away up on the hills? Shooting apples is it?"

Edward paled. His father continued his voice strong and determined.

"And I am proud of my rebel sons. Didn't I bring you up to believe in Roisin Dubh?" Carlisle referred to one of the oldest political songs in Ireland. Edward and his brothers had grown up singing it at family parties. "But remember child. We value life. We take oaths to protect life and I would rather die now on the spot than to think that a son of mine could be taking away someone's father. They aren't bad people, they represent a cruel cause. Remember that and I will always be proud of my Irish soldier boy."

Tears ran down Edwards face and he knelt at his father's feet. Carlisle stroked his son's auburn hair fondly, the light of the fire catching on his gold signet ring.

"I love all three of you equally and I will love your wife like my own daughter. Bring Bella to us and we will cherish and protect her. I give you leave to court her and you will behave like the Irish gentleman I know you to be."

The two men stayed as they were for a long time until Edward rose, kissed his father and left him to his books. Dazed by the turn the conversation had taken, he mulled over the full import of his father's admission. They thought that they'd been secretive enough but obviously not. Ah well, at least Mammy didn't know and so she wouldn't be worrying.

As Edward pondered his strategy, outside in the street, the tall military man was being led around Dingle by the hapless Sergeant Reilly.

"You say you have the town under control?" asked the man in a clipped, British accent. His harsh vowels contrasted poorly with the Sergeant's lilting country voice.

"I do indeed. There are a couple of bad apples of course but isn't it rightly said that you can't discard a whole barrel for one bad piece of fruit?"

"Not where I am from. We prefer to cut off rotten wood at the stalk."

The Sergeant shivered. This was not a man to reason with. He had tried the friendly approach but maybe lapsing into silence was the safest road.

"The new squadron will be coming to Tralee in a month's time. I've heard about the trouble you've had up here, the raid on the station over in Castlegregory was unacceptable. Of course no one claims to have seen anything but both you and I know that is not the case. Do I make myself clear? You sort it out and hand over the perpetrators in a week or I will take over myself."

With that, the military man strode off to his car, leaving a shaken Sergeant behind him. The raid on the Royal Irish Constabulary barracks in the village over the mountain. He thought they'd got away with that. Sure and hadn't Edward left not a trace behind? Stealing in like a thief in the night and leaving with a mighty stash of Mausers over the Conor Pass and back to Dingle before the RIC had even noticed the loss? And who on earth was going to be the patsy for this caper? He'd rather die than hand over Edward Cullen. Stopping himself, the Sergeant swiftly made the sign of the cross to protect from such an evil thought. This was going to take some planning.

Decided, he turned on his heel and half ran across the cobbles, dodging carts carrying exhausted families home to the hills as he made his way to Edward Cullen's house.


	7. Along the Conor Pass

**Thank you, as always for your encouragement. This is a bit of a sad chapter but God willing we will find happiness after our troubles!**

Three days after the Sergeant's warning and Edward was no closer to finding a solution to the demand to produce the mastermind behind the raid on the Castlegregory Royal Irish Constabulary barracks. He kept coming back to the same solution; turn himself in. It was no good and the usual sanctuary of his book-lined study was making him claustrophobic. Glancing swiftly out of the window, he saw that the rain was easing up a bit. A walk would clear his mind. Grabbing his ulster from the coatrack and jamming a hat on his head, he left the house.

His feet moved automatically, falling into long, loping strides as he made his way over the stone bridge and along the road that led out of Dingle towards the Conor Pass. Ironic that he should choose this route he thought, remembering the starlit night when he, Jasper and the lads had taken the same path to Castlegregory, returning gleefully with the entire contents of the RIC arsenal. The rain was lifting but it wasn't long before he was soaked and glad of his long, waterproof coat.

Half way up the mountain, Edward paused. Looking back, he could see the town of Dingle lying nestled in the bay. Smoke was rising lazily from the turf fires and the sun breaking through the clouds was reflected on the shimmering waters of the bay. He looked up at the sky, remembering how, as a boy, he had thought that the shafts of sun breaking through the steel grey of the clouds were God's fingers. He smiled to himself. As a man and a scientist, he still believed that the wonders of nature were a constant reminder of his Maker.

His mood lightened, Edward sat down on the side of a boulder and looked around with pleasure. Below him, he could see the mirrored sheen of the mountain lakes and the ribbon of sea stretching out along Brandon Bay. He inhaled the fresh air and felt energized for the first time in days. He would go back to the town, settle his affairs, and turn himself in. A few months kicking his heels in Tralee Jail wouldn't be the end of the world and then he'd be back.

Reaching his hand down the side of the boulder, his fingers searched until they found what he was looking for: The initials "EC" carved deep into the rock. It had taken him hours and his mother's good knife to create his masterpiece. One day soon he would come back and add "BC". Laughing at his own sentimentality and remembering his mother's fury at the remains of her carving knife, he set off back home with a light heart.

Gathering his brothers around his table that evening, Edward told them of his decision.

"Ah no" said Emmett, "don't play the blessed martyr Edward Og."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, they all smiled. Edward was named for his Grandfather and had spent his youth being called "og" or "little" to distinguish him from the old man. The accusation of self-sacrifice was a well worn family habit. As a child, Edward had regularly given up his pocket money to some of the half-dressed urchins with whom he ran around the hills. Family pride hid behind the teasing words and Carlisle had always made sure his youngest child had a bit extra, knowing that he would be sharing with the town.

The sound of the back door knocker brought the boys out of their reverie. A knock on the back meant a friend; country people didn't bother with the front. Edward opened the door to see Sean Griffin and his wife Mary.

Sean was one of the aforementioned urchins, now grown to be a man, who scratched out a living as a spalpeen. He would hire himself out as a labourer to local farmers, living with them for the potato harvest and returning home with his hard-earned money. Mary was the love of his life and they eked out a living in a cabin beyond Dingle. They had nothing and lived still with pressed-earth floors and little to spare but their two sons were always well turned out, a wandering tramp always found a dish of potatoes at the cabin door and they never missed mass.

"May God and Mary bless you" Edward said automatically "Come in, you're very welcome."

The two entered, something was clearly on their minds. The Cullen boys, used to country ways commented on the weather, giving the two time to settle and find their pace. Jasper brought over cups of steaming tea, the fragrant steam rising in the cooling evening air.

"Edward, Sir" started Sean.

"Musha stop with the airs!" laughed Edward "sure and didn't we grow up together you and me, running along the strand and annoying the fishermen?" Edward thought back to his wild childhood when, before Carlisle had packed him off to school, he and his gang of hooligans would spend their days down at Coumeenole beach, watching the men coming in from fishing, boats packed with gleaming shoals of silver mackerel.

"We did as well," smiled Sean "and weren't we blessed though we didn't know it?"

Mary smiled and the boys were startled to see tears starting in her eyes. The lines on her face reflected the hardship of her life and, although she was younger than Alice, she looked twice her age.

"Aren't you just back from working over by Ventry?" asked Emmett, looking at Sean curiously.

"I am not' he said, his voice strengthening. "And isn't that why I'm here? Didn't I hear auld Paddy Reilly talking about the man from Tralee and his search for the leader of the flying column? And isn't it myself who has the answer for you?"

Edward started. Nothing was secret in Dingle! He may as well take out an advert in the paper "Edward Cullen, head of the outlawed Irish Republican Brotherhood is now inviting all comers to join!"

"I wasn't over in Ventry. I was down in Tralee. Your daddy knows." Sean nodded at the boys. Mary wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "I have the cancer. I'm not long for this world and I came to make my goodbyes and prepare to meet my Lord with a happy heart."

Mary blessed herself, tears running down her cheeks. The Cullens were silent, shock registering on each face. Sean was their age, Edward's childhood friend. Life could be cruel.

"It's sad news you bring this day a stor" started Edward.

"Not a bit of it. I meet my God. And I can go easy knowing that you'll look after Mary."

"We will of course." The boys nodded. They would do no less.

"She's a great woman altogether. The better half of me thanks be to God. A good mother she is, and a powerful cook. Isn't her bread famous all around Dingle?"

"Ah go on" Mary muttered.

"Well, carry on with the coffin for the corpse won't walk as they say. I'm leaving a gra mo chroi in your care and she truly is the beat of my heart. I hear you'll need a nursemaid soon if all goes to plan." Sean added, looking slyly at Edward who flushed. "And in return, I'm your man to turn over to the RIC devils. Wouldn't I rather die in a jail for the freedom of Ireland than rot in a Tralee hospital?"

The boys gasped. That Sean would sacrifice his precious time for his country was incredible. They talked long into the night but Sean was intransigent. The plan was set, tomorrow he would turn himself in and wouldn't he be home in a couple of weeks in time to spend his last days watching his beloved boys play? He would indeed.

The next day, with heavy hearts, the town turned out to witness Sergeant Reilly helping Sean into a closed car. Across the street, Edward saw Bella watching from the doorway of her printing shop. If it came to choosing between her and his country, he thought, would he be able to walk away from his love? He prayed to God that he would never have to find out.


	8. Waltzing in the kitchen

**Your support is amazing! Emily, with everything you are going through I wish you strength and courage and if my nonsense helps in any way then I will keep it coming! You are in my prayers.**

 **W.B. Yeats is one of our finest poets. The poems I am thinking of were not published officially until 1921 so I am bending the timeline. There is a printing press down in Dingle which was actually used by Yeats so the truth is not a million miles from fiction!**

 **In case you are wondering why there is such a convoluted path to love – Reputation was a precious commodity for unmarried women in rural Ireland. Until the 1970s, the Parish Priest had an awful lot of power and would be involved in everything from relationships to family matters.**

There were some days when things went well in the printing shop: the heavy lead type fell into place and the temperamental presses behaved. This was not one of them. Kitty had vanished an hour ago on a one minute errand and the press had chosen this time to stick half way through a job for Father Moran. Frustrated beyond belief, Bella mopped her brow with an inky hand and kicked the massive printing press hard. Needless to say, the blow hurt her more than it did the machine and she spent five minutes hopping around the room trying not to cry. Her pinafore was covered in the marks of what had been a failed attempt at cleaning the ink rollers and her hair was plastered to her face. Not her finest moment and certainly not the one in which she hoped to see a pristine older woman appear in the doorway.

"Beautiful morning God be praised!" the lady called. As the light of the day followed her in, Bella recognized the elegant Mrs Esme Cullen. What would she think? What a moment to arrive!

Standing on the threshold, Mrs Cullen was clearly unaffected by the chaos. Unbuttoning her coat and smiling at Bella she said: "Can I come in my dear? I've a little project to discuss with you."

Rapidly remembering herself, Bella greeted her guest and ushered her in to what she and Kitty grandly referred to as "the office". In reality, the area was little more than a rickety desk and two chairs but the girls felt that it leant a certain tone to the place.

"Well now, Miss Bella, I won't waste time, I can see that you have matters to attend to. I have a job for you," her guest began, sitting down and taking off her hat, a smile of anticipation on her face. "You'll know the poet Mr W.B. Yeats?"

"I do of course, Mrs Cullen. My parents did some printing for him when we were back in Dublin." Bella caught her breath, a momentary glimpse coming to her mind of her father bending over the same printing press that now took up pride of place behind her.

"God grant them eternal life" said Mrs Cullen quickly, blessing herself. "They were good friends to me and we worked together on a few projects."

Bella sat up straighter. Esme smiled at the young girl, noting her creamy skin and clear eyes shining with excitement. Yes, Edward had chosen well but she had to be sure of whether Bella could support her boy in every area of his life. She smiled to herself, sure and men must think that women were blind! Didn't she know exactly what her sons were up to all these years?

"I have some of Mr Yeats' latest poems and I want to do a private printing just for him and a few friends. Can I count on your absolute discretion? They are about the 1916 Easter uprising and I wouldn't want them falling into the wrong hands. It is a risk and you are welcome to say "no". If it helps you decide, your father, may he rest in peace, did a similar job for me in 1916."

Bella paused, trying to read between the lines. The Easter uprising? When the Fenian rebels had unsuccessfully tried to take back the country from the British Crown? Was Mrs Cullen trying to tell her that both she and her father had been involved in the Irish cause? Her quiet, intellectual father who was happiest lying on his leather sofa reading a book?

Thinking back, Bella's mind quickly produced memories of visitors to the house late at night, entering rooms in the early morning to find the grate full of scraps of half-burned paper, and most of all the recollection of being suddenly packed off to London early in 1916 came to mind. Not the most obvious spot to go with a world war on but a lot safer than Dublin where the fighting threatened to engulf the whole city.

Her parents had been protecting her, she realised, wishing with every fibre of her being that they'd been able to protect themselves. She took a deep breath and tried to refocus on her visitor, this was too much to take in.

"I'll do it and with pride" she said quietly.

"And you'll come to dinner next week to discuss layouts? I'll send one of the children to get you."

Standing up and replacing her hat, Esme smiled kindly at the shocked girl, watching her digest the half-hints and knowing for sure that this capable and bright young woman was perfect for her own Edward.

Later, Bella couldn't remember the details of the rest of the conversation or indeed her guest leaving. Racing around her head was the thought that her parents had been part of the rebellion. Her solemn, academic, upright parents: rebels? She let out a bark of laughter. Well now, she thought; that explains an awful lot.

Bella had barely collected herself when Kitty burst back into the printing shop, full of news of poor Sean and the big British military man. He now had a name: Captain James Cunningham. The locals had taken to calling him "The Kaiser" in reference to the late, unlamented German leader.

"No news of Sean" she gasped, "But Jasper Cullen has taken him as a client and will be pleading his case down at the High Court in Tralee next week. They do say that Jasper has a way with words that would charm the very birds from the trees so Sean should be home soon. Mary's bearing up poor soul but you can see that she's suffering. Sure and hasn't she just moved into Edward Cullen's house? He's a good man altogether. Not like that miserable Captain James. The man hasn't the heart of a mouse, marching around like that."

Bella processed this news quietly. The more she heard of Edward, the more she liked him. He was compassionate, thoughtful and bold too, to take in a suspected rebel's wife. In these uncertain times, it took an extraordinary man to take a risk like that. She returned to the inkling that she had that Edward Cullen might be more than a by-stander in the struggle for independence and realised that this only made him more attractive to her.

After scrubbing herself down and restoring some image of respectability, Bella and Kitty sat down to eat. The heavy smell of ink hung in the air, comforting to Bella who associated it with happiness and her parents. The wooden half door was closed against the autumn winds but the day was bright and the black and white cat basked in the rays filtering in through the window.

A face appeared at the door as the girls were clearing the table: Alice Cullen, followed by Rosalie Cullen. This was obviously the Cullen day, Bella decided.

"God keep you!" called Alice. "Can we visit with you a while?"

"You can of course," returned Kitty merrily, "and welcome as a sunny day you are!"

The two women entered the shop curiously, taking in the neat shelves of type, the pots of ink and the massive printing press which dominated the room. They sat, accepting cups of tea gratefully and meandered through various innocuous topics including the weather, the recent scandalously unimpressive church flowers and a suspected outbreak of measles down towards Dunquin before getting to the point of their visit.

"We're here for our brother in law, Edward," started Rosalie. "Mammy suggested that we speak to you because you're closer to our age and would talk freely to us. You know who he is?"

Bella nodded silently.

"He's a good man and a lonely man, despite appearances. He needs a good woman, a strong wife. You know he can't come to you directly because you have no one to stand for you and God forbid that you are compromised in any way… the fact is that he wants to court you, openly and with all respect. God knows he'd want to be getting the blessing from your father, may his soul rest in eternal life, but instead he'll talk to Father Moran. Are you willing to accept his interest?"

Bella sagged with relief. The feeling was mutual and she thought longingly of the tall figure and the kindness she had witnessed at the auction. She opened her mouth to reply and no sound came out.

"She will of course!" blurted Kitty. "Isn't it obvious to any of us that the two are two halves of the same heart?"

The visitors nodded to each other.

"Then it's a match!" said Alice triumphantly. Father Moran will arrange a proper meeting. It was a great day when our brother saw you. You'll bring life and happiness to us all. Bless you Miss Bella, you'll be a Cullen before Easter, God willing!"

And with that, the pair left, leaving Bella and Kitty staring at each other opened mouthed. Bella was reeling from the revelations this day had brought but felt as though her world was slowly settling into place at last.

That her parents, rest in peace, were Irish patriots and rebels, she accepted and was filled with pride. That Edward Cullen wanted to court her… she hugged herself in glee before leaping up and waltzing a stunned and unresisting Kitty around the small room.

"Kitty, a chara, this is the happiest day of my life."

"So far, Bella a stor! If it's Edward Cullen you're getting, then the blessings are only just beginning!"

The two girls collapsed with laughter. The cat, now the chaos was over, settled back down in the sun. Peace and anticipation reigned in the printers.


	9. The Priest Comes Calling

**Your reviews are amazing! Thank you! Better than Rebelward at the Cattle market! There are a couple of Irish phrases in here. If they are important, I translate them in the dialogue, otherwise they are normally endearments!**

Father Moran didn't waste any time and before the week was out, he was knocking at the cottage door half an hour after the end of morning mass. Kitty flung open the door, ushering the elderly priest into the cottage before the whole street joined in. As it was, she definitely saw Mrs Courtney's lace curtains twitching. She sighed; knowing that trying to stop gossip spreading in Dingle was like standing on Coumeenole strand and telling the Atlantic waves to stop rolling in. News of the visit and garbled speculation about its purpose would be all over town before the Angelus bells rang at midday.

"God's blessing on this house" said Father Moran, shaking off the chill of the morning and removing a hat he'd been wearing since his ordination.

He looked around the small room with an air of satisfaction. Bella and Kitty were meticulous housekeepers; a small fire was burning brightly in the grate, taking the edge of the autumn morning and the rag rugs made by the girls were colourful and warm on the flagstone floor. The old priest's eyes went automatically to the pictures of Bella's parents on the wall, candles burning under them in small holders. He sighed and blessed himself. These were terrible times and more good men and women would be lost before the struggle was over. As he was mulling over this pessimistic thought Bella came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Thanks be to God for a fine day. You're very welcome Father. Sit down now, you'll have a cup of tea?" Bella smiled. "I'm after making some brack and you'll have a slice?" It was well known that Father Moran had a weakness for the local current loaf and the girls had been baking in anticipation of his visit. As Kitty had pointed out "buttering up the auld tortoise'll do us no harm!"

"You'll be coming to the rosary at Mrs Quilter's tonight?" started the priest.

"We will of course, Father. Sure and didn't she come over last night to borrow a couple of chairs? They're expecting a good turn out."

October was the month of the Blessed Rosary and prayers were held in different houses every night. Unkind souls said that it was "a great coincidence indeed that the rosary was always said before tea but sure didn't it save Father Moran from eating alone and now wasn't it a great thing altogether that the auld priest had such a good appetite on him for his time of life? "Even so, the town looked forward to the month as a break in the monotony as the long evenings set in.

Helping himself to a thick slice of buttered brack, Father Moran cleared his throat.

"I've been asked to speak to you Bella child." He started. "Your blessed parents, may their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in the hands of God, would have been glad to hear the tidings I'm bringing you this day."

The girls held hands, their wide eyes fixed on the priest. Even though they knew what was coming next, the anticipation was mighty.

"Child, Edward Cullen has been to speak to me about you. He's a fine man, a devout son of God and a good provider. He'll make a fine husband and God willing a loving father." His tone changed, becoming serious. "Bella, this is not something to be taken lightly; more than your happiness rests on this man's shoulders. Will you take his request to court you?"

Bella's chin went up and in a voice vibrant with conviction she answered "I will, Father."

"Thanks be to God and Saint Brigid!" replied the old priest. "May your parents in heaven smile down on you on this day."

Bella and Kitty, overcome, wept in each other's arms at the priest's words. Calming down Kitty's sobs and wiping her eyes with the edge of her apron, Bella looked up at the elderly man. She could see tears in his rheumy eyes and in the creases of his cheeks. He was a good man and she knew that he wanted nothing but good for her. Reaching over, she patted his wrinkled hand, feeling the bones close to the skin.

Although Bella was brought up speaking mainly English, she had enough Irish to be able to show her gratitude towards the old man properly and in a way that he'd appreciate. Kneeling in front of him, she held his hand and thanked him.

"Go maith raibh agat, a Athair Moran."

"Ah get up child, don't thank me! It's thanks to our Lord and His Blessed Mother that we should be giving for making a pair who will help each other in good times and bad. Buiochas le Dia! Thanks be to God! I'll go back and tell Edward and you'll both come and see me next week for the arrangements."

Two hours after the visit, the two girls were still sitting in front of the dying embers of the fire plotting and planning their future when a letter was pushed under the door. Kitty leaped up and grabbed the creamy envelope, turning it over in her hands before waving it in the air and hopping around, her shoes tapping gaily on the flagstone floor.

"Well now, wouldn't you like to know what I have right here?" she teased her cousin before handing over the precious delivery.

Bella paused and took a deep breath before ripping open the thick paper with her finger. She extracted a piece of folder paper, showing Kitty the deeply engraved crest at the top and the beautiful copperplate writing.

"This is it, Kit" she said slowly, "Edward Cullen is inviting us both to tea; we're to be there tomorrow at his parents' house." Her heart swelled at the thought of being close to Edward. She felt as though her life had been building up to this meeting. Looking up at the pictures of her parents, she smiled and blessed herself.

"Mammy and Daddy, God knows I wish you were here to give me your blessing but I know that you are looking down on us this day. Glory be to God for bringing this joy to me."

"Ah Bella stop, you'll have been wailing again!" cried Kitty. "And we have too much to do. Tomorrow you have to look your best. Get the copper pot, a stor, we'll heat the water and you can wash your hair in front of the fire."

"Ah stop Kitty, sure hasn't Mrs Cullen seen me all dripping with ink?"

"Seeing you as a girl and seeing you as a wife are two different things" said Kitty darkly "You're not turning up tomorrow looking like you've been dragged through the heather backwards and making a holy show of yourself. You were raised better than that. Get the copper, we've work to do!"

Seeing that she was unlikely to escape her cousin's plans, Bella followed instructions and the tin bath was set up in front of the fire. The big copper pot was filled with water and set to heat on the range. As she watched the water starting to boil, her mind was full of images of Edward; his broad shoulders as he leaned against the rails at the cattle auction, the way that the sun caught his hair outside mass and the fire in his eyes as he talked about helping the poor and the sick. She was blessed indeed and tomorrow he would no longer be in her mind but in front of her.

"Would you ever wake up? Dreaming the day away and isn't the water boiling as you chase cobwebs?" Laughing, Bella hefted the pot off the range and made her way to the tin bath. Kitty was in no mood for whimsy and Bella had learned that following orders when she was like this was the path to harmony. Even so, putting down the empty copper, she grasped her cousin's hands.

"Tell me it's really happening."

"It is asthoreen; you're being courted by Edward Cullen. God bless you my love and keep you safe in His care." Changing her tone, she added, "And if you don't get into that bath in five minutes, I'll not be responsible for my actions!"

And so the preparations began…


	10. The meeting at O'Sea's

**Your reviews are as warming as a turf fire on a freezing night. Thank you so much! I am so honoured that this has been recommended on A Different Forest! Thank you Tarbecca for your kindness.**

It was a night "with teeth" as the saying went. The westerly wind howled from the steel grey Atlantic, biting into the town itself and setting the fishing boats fighting on their moorings. The fishermen, safe in their beds, heard the racked and thanked God that they weren't out on the hostile ocean. The town of Dingle lay silent, buffeted by the gales which were attacking with increasing ferocity.

"Mother of God!" Emmett hissed, struggling to open the back door of O'Sea's bar. The bar itself lay in darkness, windows shuttered against the light but a final push of the wood revealed a room filled with the men. Smoke rose from pipes and mingled with that coming from the turf fire, the sawdust on the floor bore the signs of a long day but the pub was warm and welcoming. A couple of men had glasses of porter in hand which they sipped as the low chatter ground to a halt.

Edward rose to his feet.

"Lads, it is truly sorry I am to bring you out on this devil of a night. Jasper's after getting back from Tralee and the news is bad. We need to prepare."

All eyes turned to the lean figure lounging against the bar. He lowered his glass and looked around the room. These were the faces of his childhood; friends, neighbours, family. He sighed, knowing that his words would be another step along the path which would inevitably lead to some of them making the ultimate sacrifice.

"I saw Sean. He's hanging on but not great. The poor man is pining for Mary and the boys. Sure it's no way for a man to be spending the last months of his life on this earth." He kicked the ground in frustration before remembering himself and carrying on, his voice low.

"The news from Dublin is grave. The Brits are sending reinforcements over. We don't know who they are yet but nothing good can come of it. The lads down on the docks said that there are enough weapons being landed to start a war."

The men looked at each other. From the first day of the struggle, they had all known that this day might come but sure wasn't there a big gap between the knowing of a thing and the reality?

"Then we fight back! Start now!" cried a voice from the corner. It was met with mixed mutters of dissent and approbation. Edward stepped in.

"Well now, and isn't that what they want us to do? Run towards them like rats from a burning barn? And us with only a handful of guns and the boots we stand up in? Sure didn't Michael Collins himself say that it was better to be a clever coward than a brave fool?"

The men nodded. Michael Collins, Director of Organisation and Intelligence and leading figure in the Irish Republican Brotherhood was revered by the men within the nationalist camp and feared by those without. Even with a massive ransom on his head, he cycled around Dublin on his bicycle, secret documents concealed in his socks, gathering intelligence to use against the RIC.

"Here is what we're going to do," went on Edward, his steely gaze travelling around the room, missing no one out, "I will not have it on my soul that I have sacrificed life. We'll plot and plan, gather our weapons and wait for our moment. Then we'll strike, and by God they will know about it."

The room resonated with quiet mutters of approval.

"Go back to your homes, lay low. Avoid anything that will bring suspicion upon you. God knows these are dangerous times but with His Grace we'll come through and Ireland will at last be free."

He raised the remainder of his glass to the men.

"To God and Ireland."

The men repeated his prayer. Replacing their hats, they left quietly in groups of two or three, slipping out into the dark night like shadows. Eventually only the brothers were left in the bar. Emmett was behind the counter, helping himself to a glass of porter; Edward sat back on an easy chair, feet up against the bars of the dying fire; Jasper peeled himself off the wall and sauntered over.

"Well boy, a fine speech and God willing you'll lead us to settlement but we've graver matters to speak of."

He paused as Edward desperately tried to think of anything which could be more serious than the future of his homeland.

"We speak of tomorrow's matchmaking you great eejit!" laughed Emmett.

Jasper smiled, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph I remember the day I had to speak to Alice's Daddy. I was quaking in my boots. God but he was an auld stick of a man but didn't he have a heart of gold beneath all the piss and vinegar?"

Emmett burst out with a guffaw that made the boys smile, "Rose's Mammy looked at me as though I'd stolen her chickens. Sure didn't she think that I was a great disappointment not being from Dublin? Little hag that she was. Praise be to God that Rose took after her Daddy's side. He's a great man altogether."

Edward was pale in the firelight. He twisted his hands around his hat, destroying the brim once and for all.

"Lads. What if I let her down? She's so good, so warm, so pure. How can I drag her into this?" he whispered, gesturing around the bar at the recently vacated seats.

"I said the same thing to myself" said Jasper "and then didn't I come down one night to find Alice waiting for me holding my bandolier? Jaysus, I almost died of the fright. She sat me down and for as long as I live I'll never forget what she told me: "I am part of you and you are part of me. We share the same creed you and I. What you do, I do too. I will stand and fight by your side." God in heaven it was mighty."

The brothers paused; Emmett and Jasper reflecting on the joys of finding wives who shared in their burden, Edward seeing a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

"Speak to Mammy," counselled Jasper, "she sees and understands more than we know."

Edward nodded, his worried expression starting to smooth away leaving his fine features untroubled. Not for long.

"And God help you if you get this wrong" Emmett said sternly, "she's a dote and the darling of the family already and I wouldn't want to be you if the women get involved!"

And with this, the brothers rose and embraced. Emmett kissed Edward's forehead.

"You'll always be the annoying babba but you'll make a fine husband. And now away with us all or your handsome face'll be marred by bags of soot under each eye tomorrow. Bella will run a mile!"

The door was wrestled open one more time and the brothers emerged into the hostile night. Their dark clothes made them vanish immediately amongst the shadows. With a final nod and handclasp, they slunk off into the pitch black night.

Edward made his way home with an easy heart. Winding his way up the hill, he disappeared down the side road and made his way into his house. Tomorrow was going to be a fine day, the wind was dropping and, God willing, there would be sun. And most of all, there would be Bella, and he would make her his.


	11. In a Boreen Green

"Kitty! Would you ever come on. We'll be late!"

"Ah Bella, calm down asthoreen, sure they won't start without us! Ah found them" emerging triumphantly from behind the big wooden press which dominated the small cottage, Kitty waved her rather grubby gloves in the air.

"And what in the name of all the saints were they doing behind there?"

'Well now, I'm asking myself the self same thing" she paused, head to one side and a look of intense puzzlement on her freckled face. "Ah I have it! 'Twas when Father came to call and I shoved my handbag behind the press to get it out of the way. They must have fallen out."

"Ah Kitty look at your dress, tell me you didn't just iron the front?" Kitty looked smugly down at her green woollen dress which set off the pink and white of her skin.

"I did of course, isn't it only going to be hidden when I sit? And the Good Lord alone knows why you bothered ironing your petticoat. Sure no one'll see it!"

Bella shook her head. Kitty was infamous for her short-cut approach to housekeeping and the girl herself would cheerfully admit that she'd rather do anything than iron. Bella agreed with this, the heating of the heavy iron on the range, dashing away before the wretched thing cooled and starting the whole process again two minutes later was hardly fun but didn't someone have to do it?

"I daresay that Doctor Edward Cullen wears some fine things under those tweed suits" said Kitty slyly, earning herself a sharp look and a squeak from her cousin.

Arm in arm, the two girls made their way along the Main Street. Eyes followed the striking pair, Kitty in her emerald and Bella in hyacinth blue. They were just wandering past Fitzgerald's butchers where necklaces of sausages fought for room with various cuts of pig: trotters, ribs and a massive head, eyes staring accusingly at passers-by. The mingled smell of meat and the sawdust from the floor made Bella's stomach curl. Hastening her step, she pulled Kitty across the road, putting them straight in the path of town busybody Mrs Quilter.

"Ah Jaysus, isn't that always the way that the one you want to avoid is right in front of you?" hissed Kitty.

"Gods blessing this day girls!" called the stout woman, chins wobbling and eyes darting with interest. She pulled her thick shawl around her shoulders and looked them up and down.

"Well now don't ye two look as fresh as paint! Where are you going all gussied up?"

"To tea with the Cullens" answered Bella guilessly.

"Ah well now I'd say that the sons would be there too?" Mrs Quilter fished shamelessly.

Avoiding the answer, Kitty swept her cousin up.

"Sure and we'd love to stay and chat now Mrs Quilter but isn't it nearly four o'clock and us only half way there. Blessings of Mary and all the Saints to you now."

Rushing down the street, heads lowered, the pair barely made it around the corner before they burst out laughing.

"The auld scald. I'd say she'll be spreading the news all over town."

They stepped gaily along the road. The wind had vanished, the day was bright with promise and the fuschia glowed in the hedgerows.

"Glory be to God this day!" cried Bella fervently. Kitty smiled and squeezed her arm.

Making their way up the gravel path to the Cullen's house, the cousins were struck by the simple grandeur of the Georgian building. Large double doors were framed with simple pillars and on either side stood three large windows, big enough for a man to stand up in. Bella felt her courage departing and she clung to Kitty like a drowning man to a log.

"Courage a stor!"

The door swung open as they reached it and pretty Mrs Cullen smiled out from the hall.

"You are very welcome my darling girls on this day. The blessings of Mary and St Brigid be with you both." And with that, all fears departed and the girls found themselves being wrapped into the warm heart of the Cullen clan.

Tea was like nothing the cousins had seen in a private house. Bella had frequently been to Bewley's tea rooms in Dublin but nothing could rival Mrs Esme Cullen's tea table. Thick slices of current brack, golden with country butter vied for space with a magnificent coffee and walnut cake, big fluffy scones and warm honeyed flapjack. A pot of Gentleman's Relish stood next to a pile of buttered toast and a large pot of tea was keeping warm over a gentle flame.

"Oh!" said Kitty happily.

The riches of the table seemed to vanish and Bella felt herself drawn towards the man standing quietly in front of the fire. The flames highlighted the deep rich red of his hair and his face was alive with happiness.

"Miss Bella." He said quietly.

"Dr Cullen" she replied.

"You're as welcome as the flowers in spring. Please do sit down"

Settling herself in a rich velvet covered armchair, Bella sat. They must have talked, she must have eaten and a conversation must have taken place but later, she tried to remember the afternoon but all she could recall were piercing green eyes gazing at her and the feeling deep in her heart that she wanted nothing more in the world than to be by this man's side.

Finally, the company rose. The heaving plates were empty but for a few crumbs and Emmett was leaning back in his chair, replete.

"We'll go for a bit of a walk!" announced Alice. This had clearly been pre-planned as the girls sped off and immediately returned with hats.

Leaving the grounds, the group wandered down along the main road and turned off into a boreen. The track was little used and was grassy underfoot. Bella wandered along in a daze, occasionally pulling flowers from the hedgerow. Without noticing, she found herself with Edward as the others hung back, close enough to watch and far away enough to give the couple privacy.

Shyly, Edward offered her a flower.

"You are beautiful, you put God's glories to shame."

She had no comment.

"May I hold your hand?"

She answered wordlessly by reaching out to him. His warm hand engulfed her small fingers. He felt comforting and exciting all at the same time. Bella could hardly breathe.

"You are the most heavenly creature I've ever seen." he said softly "I will make you happy,"

Turning her eyes to his face, she met his gaze with absolute confidence.

"I know."


	12. The Postman Calls

**Thank you all so much for reviewing and recommending this story! I am overwhelmed by your support!**

Bella woke as Pat Courtney's rooster began his usual morning cacophony. The weak morning sun was filtering though the curtains and shafts of sunlight were making the dancing dust motes sparkle. Burrowing deeper under the eiderdown, she pulled the covers up to her chin and lay, eyes on the ceiling, reflecting on yesterday's meeting. Her mind was overflowing with emotions as she thought of the sincerity shining out of Edward's eyes as he had bared his soul to her. She could almost feel the strong hand holding hers and the warmth that had seemed to flow between them. Paradoxically she felt as though she had known him for no time at all and forever.

An almighty crash from the kitchen broke rudely into her reflections. Leaping out of bed, Bella winced as her feet hit the cold floorboards. Winter was definitely in its way and the house was starting to feel the effects. She grabbed her thick shawl from the chair and wasted no time in getting to the source of the drama. Taking the stairs two at time, her long plait flying behind her, Bella burst into the kitchen to find Kitty covered from head to toe in black soot, brandishing a poker in one hand and a brush in another.

"What in the name of all that is holy are you up to?" cried Bella, looking at the scene in consternation.

"The wretched chimney! Didn't I tell you that there was a nest up there? I put my head over the grate to sweep out the ashes and sure the whole lot descended like a cloud from hell!" Bella bit back a smile as Kitty glared at her indignantly before catching sight of herself in the speckled looking glass hanging over the dresser.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph" she exclaimed, "would you look at the state of me? Ah Bella, that's it, no more housekeeping for me, 'tis too fraught with danger""

Hiding a smile, Bella kissed her cousin on the one remaining patch of spotless skin.

"Darling girl, where would I be without you? God Bless you Kit asthoreen! I'll be getting the copper and you'll be clean and scrubbed in a shake of a donkey's tail."

Order restored, and dressed for the day, the girls sat down at the table with the fat brown teapot and a plate of buttered soda bread. The strong tea was heaven after the rude awakening and Bella felt the warmth spreading through her body.

"I've messages to do this morning and then we should get cracking on Mrs Cullen's commission. Ready to get going?" Bella asked her cousin.

A knock at the door and a cheery whistle announced the arrival of the postman or Fear an phoist. Kitty leaped up to meet him, leaving Bella astonished at her sudden action. Normally Kitty avoided Brendan, the local Fear an phoist, because of his legendary nosiness. No secret was too hidden for him and no letter too confidential. Kitty swore that he steamed open the letters before delivering them and the depth of his knowledge about village affairs did lend some truth to the speculation.

"Well, the Blessings of the Holy Mother to you this day Miss Kitty" sang Brendan, one hand steadying his big black bike and the other holding out a letter.

"God's greeting to you Fear an' phoist!"

"I've a letter for you here Miss Kitty. It's from Dublin now, I'd say it'd be from a relative?"

"Ah, from my cousin Grainne. She's after coming back from America." answered Kitty. A sound of protest from behind her made her gesture at Bella behind her back. The sound stopped and she tried in vain to wrest the envelope from the Postman's fingers.

"Sure and you'll be glad to hear from her then. Costly looking envelope, I dare say she isn't short of a couple of shillings."

Kitty smiled non-commitally and, finally managing to retrieve the prize from Brendan's grasp, retreated into the cottage.

"Well I'll be off now girls for don't they say that God loves a pair of busy hands? And I'd say you'll be wanting to be writing to your cousin about the matchmaking? A fine man Dr Cullen. When did you say the wedding was for? I'll say that the Cullens will throw a good hooley now."

"God love us, the bread!' exclaimed Kitty suddenly . " Sure here we are gabbing and all the while, I've bread to take out. You'll excuse me Fear an phoist and I wish you a good day now." Skillfully, Kitty closed the door on Brendan and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Cousin Grainne?" asked Bella. Now I know our family tree inside out and upside down and sure weren't our fathers the only children of the family?"

Kitty coloured, the expression on her face familiar to Bella from their childhood; Kitty'd been caught red handed doing something sneaky!

"I was going to tell you…" Kitty started, rubbing the back of her leg with her and, a sure sign that she was in turmoil. "When you are wed… After mind you… I'm away back to Dubin to join the woman's arm of the Irish Volunteers, the Cumann na mBan. The letter is from Countess Markievicz herself. I'll officially be working with her in the Ministry of Labour but my main aim will be helping the struggle."

Bella gasped, her eyes like saucers. Countess Markievicz was a famous leader of the rebellion who had been imprisoned, sentenced to death, saved and then released with the other leaders to mass adulation. She was an incredible woman and had been elected as the Sinn Fein Member of Parliament.

"Countes Markievicz… is she not in Cork Jail?" asked Bella faintly.

"She is but she'll be out. I have to go a chara. I love you dearly but you'll be wanting to set up your own home now."

"Never, Kit. You're all I have left." Bella felt tears rising in her eyes.

"And you for me. When my parents died of the fever and yours too me in, I knew that I would always have a home with you. But I have to fight. After what happened to your parents and the horrors I'm hearing about in the West, I have to go. I can't stand by and watch Ireland being destroyed. My heart is torn; I want to been with you but I need to stand with the Volunteers. You see that?"

"I do of course and God's blessing go with you but how did you make the acquaintance of such a grand lady?"

Kitty smiled. "Mrs Cullen! She introduced me a few weeks ago."

Bella couldn't believe her ears. Her elegant and proper future mother in law consorting with the rebels? The world was upside down today. Hugging Kitty close she said.

"You are a surprising and wonderful woman Kitty mo chroi and I'll miss you."

Ah go 'way! You'll have your hands full of the Doctor!" said Kitty gleefully, enjoying Bella's embarrassment. "I'll go after the wedding. And until then, haven't we a dress to get?"

The two cousins embraced each other, each set on her path.

Shaking off the feeling that her world was about to change in ways that she could only imagine, Bella set her hat firmly on her shiny hair and headed out with her cousin. They hadn't gone more than ten yards when Mrs Quilter bustled over to

them.

"God's greeting" they chorused, anticipating the inevitable question. But they were wrong, Mrs Quilter's mind was on different things.

"Well now girls, you'll have seen the fine new car down below in the town?"

They shook their heads.

"Don't they say that it belongs to a big man up from Dublin? I'd say he'll be staying with the Cullens. Sure aren't they the great ones to be entertaining in times like this?" a toss of her head indicated her true opinion of anyone rash enough to attract attention during these troubled times.

Kitty pinched Bella on the arm, warning her to be quiet before saying gaily.

"Ah sure it's bound to be a relative now. Don't they have family all over? You know what it is Mrs Quilter when someone takes it into their head to go visiting."

"I do of course" sniffed the older woman "And me with nine brothers and sisters, not mentioning my brother in law Father Paul. Sure isn't a priest in the family a fine thing and a blessing for us all?"

Relieved that the distraction had worked, the girls nodded their assent and managed to escape.

"Kit, what is going on?"

"I don't know" replied her cousin worriedly, "but a visitor from Dublin at this time is never going to be good news. We'll head on over and see if we can help."

Decided, the two girls increased their pace and started the brisk walk towards the Cullen's house. Whatever was happening, the Cullens were their family now and they would support them, whatever the consequences.


	13. The Man from Dublin Castle

Kitty and Bella were approaching the Cullen's house when they were intercepted by a worried looking Edward. He had clearly spotted them from the window and hadn't troubled with putting on a jacket, despite the chill air.

"God's greeting to you girls, you'll walk a while with me?"

"We will of course and willingly!" sang Kitty, looking slyly at her cousin and immediately dropping behind the pair.

"Bella mo chroi" he started softly and her heart sang in reply. "I'm always very glad to see you but I wish you hadn't come this day."

Bella was shocked and turned her eyes to meet Edward's. She could see concern etched on his features, from his furrowed brow to the tense set of his jaw. She waited.

"There are people at the house that I want to keep you from. These are desperate times for Ireland; there are visitors here from Dublin Castle who would wish us all harm."

She stopped walking.

"Sure and don't I know that more than anyone?" she asked gently. "Didn't my parents, may their souls rest in the hands of God, die because of these very incomers?"

She searched his face with her eyes, waiting until he silently acquiesced.

"Edward, I'm not a fragile flower to be kept safe away from harm" she began again, desperately looking around her for inspiration. "I'm like the fuchsia" she continued, pointing to the hedgerows. "An auld weed that looks so vulnerable but sure doesn't it withstand our gales? And if you hack it back, doesn't it spring back again? That's me. Haven't I been running the press myself all this time? I have eyes in my head. I've seen the way the lads follow you, like you're some kind of leader. I've listened to your Mammy and your sisters. You're fighting for the cause I'd say…"

From Edward's sudden gasp, Bella knew that she was right. She took a deep breath and continued.

"And I am proud that you've chosen me; as I have chosen you. We'll fight together. I will be at your side no matter what and between the pair of us we'll stand up for Ireland."

Edward stopped walking, his face alight with love and triumph.

"Bella, a gra mo chroi, my wife. Can I kiss you?"

Glancing back to where Kitty appeared to be engrossed in finding the few remaining blackberries of the year, she reached her face up to his.

Their lips met and Bella knew, once and for all, that she would never have this connection with any other human being. Edward was pouring his love into her and she responded.

"Ahem" coughed Kitty behind them, bringing the couple back to the reality of the day.

Drawing back, Edward smiled at his betrothed and kissed her gently on the forehead. "No more secrets" he whispered, "we fight together."

Releasing Bella, who immediately raced back to her cousin and wrapped her arms around her waist, Edward set off back towards the house. "Take your time" he called "and be ready to see the mask we wear!"

Left together, the two cousins embraced warmly.

"Kitty, I pray that you find a man like Edward, one who is truly sees you as an equal."

"From your mouth to God's ears asthoreen" replied her cousin.

Bella added thoughtfully, "I hear that John Griffin is back to Dublin from America. Weren't the two of ye great friends before he left? I'd say he was holding a candle for you then."

"Ah g'way you brat!" chocked Kitty and with a laugh, the two cousins knocked on the door of the Cullen's house.

Unlike previous occasions when the girls had practically been pulled into the hall by a member of the family, the door was opened by Maggie wearing a full black dress and a silk apron.

"Ah Miss Bella and Miss Kathleen" she announced loudly. "You are very welcome and Mrs Cullen will receive you in the drawing room. Lunch will be served shortly." A wink undermined her serious words but the two girls received the message loud and clear that this was not to be a normal visit.

Entering the drawing room, Bella was amazed to see Esme gloriously dressed in a gorgeous sapphire blue velvet dress. Huge pearls in her ears matched a triple strand choker which reflected light onto her creamy skin. Alice and Rose were similarly attired and the cousins felt very dowdy in comparison.

Carlisle approached immediately, debonair in a pin striped suit and stiff collar, "Ah Miss Bella, Miss Kathleen, may I introduce you to Colonel Markham-Caius from Dublin Castle? The Colonel has visited us to tell us about the wonderful new security arrangements which he has put in place and I for one feel a lot safer as a result."

The Colonel was a tall, thin man with a pointed foxy face and hair smoothed back over his bony skull. A waxed moustache sat primly above his thin, liver coloured lips and the khaki of his military uniform gave him a sallow, whey coloured complexion. Bella disliked him intensely on sight. How could Mrs Cullen be so charming?

The girls were spared the Colonel's attention as Edward entered the room, immediately coming over and shaking hands with the visitor before bowing to the cousins.

"My youngest son, Dr Edward Cullen" explained Esme to the Colonel, "recently back from London and now working with my husband."

"London eh?" said the Colonel. His voice had a cold quality to it.

"Yes sir!" answered Edward, smiling and seemingly oblivious to the hostile waves emanating from the visitor. "I studied at King's College"

"So you didn't serve then?" sneered the Colonel.

"Of course!" Edward responded immediately, "Irish Guards, with my brothers."

When Britain had first entered the World War and a call had gone around to join up to save the beleaguered Belgians, Irish men in their thousands had signed up, the Cullen brothers amongst them. They had been honourably discharged and had returned home with a healthy loathing and total lack of respect for the British military authorities who sacrificed so many men through incompetence and disregard for life.

Jasper's comment "Sure they couldn't organise a hooley in the Guinness brewery!" summed up the family attitude to the British establishment. In contrast, they had a complete respect for the men they had met and with whom they had stood shoulder to shoulder in the trenches.

As Emmett pointed out, "there are some great men altogether in England, it's a crying shame that they're led by such turnips!" The brothers took great glee in using their military training to organise raids on the local Royal Irish Constabulary barracks and had trained a fine fighting force from local farmers and fishermen.

The Colonel's attitude towards Edward noticeably softened once he had found out about his army service. Bella shuddered; Edward was absolutely right that this incomer had nothing but evil intent in his heart.

Fortunately, just as the Colonel's cold grey eyes fell on Bella, a gong sounded and Mrs Cullen leaped up saying gaily "lunch is served, Colonel would you be so good as to escort me in?"

Lunch was served by an unusually silent Maggie and a girl who Bella recognised as being one of bossy Mrs Quilter's many offspring. Hopefully she'd not inherited her mother's less charming habits or a blow by blow account of the afternoon would be keeping the town entertained for days.

Unusually, Carlisle skipped saying Grace and Bella realised that this was part of the act; don't stand out, don't be too Irish, make them think you're one of them. She sighed internally. What a world they were living in!

"Now Colonel, I understand that you've a fine new group of men coming in to fight those upstart Feinians?" began Carlisle. His wife swiftly but gently interrupted before the Colonel could respond.

"Now Carlisle, you wouldn't deprive us from hearing all about the latest news from Dublin would you? You men can talk politics later away from us foolish women!" Giving her husband the ghost of a wink and turning the full beam of her charm on the Colonel, Esme started: "Now Colonel, I know that it is very naughty of me but we hear so little being hidden away in the sticks. I understand that there is a terrible scandal going on about the new play at the Gaiety theatre?" And they were off, plays, dinners, society gossip, Esme handled the Colonel wonderfully.

Finally, the pudding plates were removed and Esme caught each woman's eyes. They rose simultaneously and left the room. Esme lead them to her own morning room and made sure that the door was firmly shut before throwing herself on the sofa.

"Mother of God! What an auld serpent! Alice a stor, help me out of this corset before I suffocate! Carlisle'll ply him with brandy and he'll be back in Dublin before he sobers up!"

The cousins stood gazing at the woman on lying on the sofa. She was incredible!

"And now Miss Bella," Esme said, sitting up and breathing a sigh of relief "Tell me about what that boy of mine was so desperate to share with you before lunch. Sure he shot out of the house like a scalded cat!"

Slowly, Bella related the conversation. Esme smiled fondly.

"Ah those boys of mine. Sure didn't I raise them to be chivalrous but God alone knows where they got this foolish idea of women being fragile vases. From those society floozies over in London I dare say!" she shook her head. "Edward is still deluding himself that I have no idea about what he's been up to all these years."

"Jasper was the same" chipped in Alice.

"And Emmett! Sure didn't he think that I'd realise that he was slipping out every night the great goose?"

The women looked at each other, exasperation on their faces, and then burst out laughing.

"Edward will learn!" said Esme happily "there is nothing as powerful as a husband and wife united in a cause. And maybe those English beauties are too fragile to do anything other than painting watercolours but we Irish are made of stronger stuff. Together, Bella my daughter, you and my boy will make those jackeens up in Dublin Castle sit up and listen!"


	14. The Date is Set (In more than one way!)

Bella, Edward and assorted Cullens emerged blinking into the sunlight after spending an hour closeted in Father Moran's freezing house. The old priest insisted on keeping the curtains drawn to "stop the chill" and the result was that the group had been sitting in the smog of a feeble turf fire, choking in the smoke without reaping the benefit of the heat.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph" gasped Esme. "Carlisle, if you don't install a proper heater in that house I swear to God I'll find another parish!"

Carlisle grinned at his wife.

"Now isn't it enough that we suffer a bit to see the children so happy." He asked, nodding over at Bella and Edward who, despite Kitty's presence between them, seemed to be in a world of their own. The date was set; before the start of Lent the family would see the couple joined together.

"Thanks be to God and the Blessed Virgin!" said Esme fervently. It was a week after the Colonel's visits and she was deeply unsettled about the future. The situation was going to get worse and she'd be an awful lot happier knowing that Edward wasn't struggling alone.

The group made their way down Main Street towards Edward's house. Every eye was on them as they took up the pavement in a happy, chattering crowd. All Dingle was out in the street so it seemed and there was not a person who missed the family passing. Women nodded sagely to each other as Edward and Bella passed; sure hadn't everyone known that it was just a matter of time? The fine young doctor and the pretty thing from the printing shop?

Opening the door to the house and shaking off the cold of the day, the family trooped into the drawing room where Mary had a pot of tea ready and scones warming over a small gas flame.

"God be praised, aren't you the angel sent straight from heaven?" demanded Esme, throwing herself into a chair and ripping off her hat. Rose and Alice hastened to the roaring fire where they warmed their frozen hands.

"So before Lent?" asked Rose slowly, turning to Edward. "Do you not realise, Edward Og, how much we have to do? We'll have to go to London. Dublin won't have what we need! Ah men…"

"And that," said Carlisle quickly "Is our cue boys. A cup of tay is good enough for the ladies but sadly lacking for a celebration. Come on now, someone show their old pa where the good stuff is kept."

As one, the men rose and hastily beat a retreat, leaving the women alone. There was an odd atmosphere and Bella couldn't understand why Esme and Rose were giving each other such meaningful glances. She was to find out.

"Bella, asthoreen, your mother, may her soul rest forever in God's kingdom, would be telling you this but her mantle falls to me."

Bella stared at Esme, unsure of what was coming next.

"Edward is a fine man and you love him."

Bella nodded silently.

"You will come together as man and wife. The pleasure and joy you give each other will strengthen your love."

Bella's face was aflame, she looked down, hands knotted in her lap.

"Bella a chara, look up. This is something to cherish not be ashamed of. You will find peace in each other and your bodies are a precious gift from God." Her tone changed "but you won't listen to all the claptrap the priests are peddling. Sure didn't God give us woman to man as a helpmeet not as a slave?"

Alice and Rose were nodding sagely, even Kitty looked serious but Bella was completely lost. Looking at her with compassion, Esme continued.

"You need to look after your own body, and you and Edward decide when and if children come."

Bella gasped, she'd be ex-communicated! Wasn't it every woman's duty to bear children?

"Ah sure take the look of horror off you now! Show me where it says in the Bible that a woman should be worn down with pregnancies year after year, that her husband should be afraid to touch her, that the precious gift of love becomes something to be feared? Read the Song of Solomon girl!"

"But… how can...?" Bella might be a city girl but no one could spend time in the country without acquiring a healthy understanding of the process of life. Kitty and Bella had spent a very instructive afternoon watching Flynn's bull, the experience of which had caused both to have nightmares for a week.

"You'll be coming to London with us next week and we'll take you to a clinic where you'll be fitted with something to stop you conceiving until you want to. I won't talk to Edward about it but I can guarantee that his Daddy will."

"Or his brothers" piped up Rose "Sure haven't we all made the same trip?"

"Or if you don't want to go over" said Alice slyly, "the women over on the Blasket Islands make their own barriers from beeswax! I almost died when I was over there and found out!"

"Bright women." commented Esme. "No daughter of mine's going to be relying on the hive though! Listen, a stor, whether you want a 'Gentleman's Family" of two or a whole hurley team is up to you and that boy of mine but you won't exhaust yourself bearing year after year unless you want to."

Bella thought of Mrs Quilter. Thirteen children, year in year out and all living in a tiny cottage; no wonder the woman had such a poor mouth to her. She'd heard of other parishes were the priest would visit newly-weds to make sure that a child would be imminent.

"Bella my love" Rose said gently "we talk about these things in our family. My own mother kept me in the dark and, if not for Mammy, I would never have welcomed Emmett into my body and soul the way I have. We know what our boys are doing and the best way we can support them is to maintain our health and our love for them."

"Amen!" said Esme irreverently "and now we need to plan the rest of your outfit!" The women collapsed with laughter and were still rolling around on the sofas when the bemused looking and whiskey scented men came to collect their various partners.

Standing on the street and watching Edward escorting Bella and Kitty home, Esme put her hand though her husband's arm.

"What were you talking about in there?" he asked curiously, knowing his wife and slightly dreading the answer.

"Honeymoon attire" she answered blithely and, smiling mischievously up at her husband, she added. "I feel like a bit of an afternoon rest darling boy. Take me home?"

Smiling down at the love of his life, Carlisle complied.


	15. The Ultimate Sacrifice

**Go raibh mile maith agat for your reviews! (Thanks a million) As we know, 1919 was not a happy time for Ireland and the next few chapters will reflect this but there will be bittersweet moments.**

"Lads, I'm away to Tralee. Sean's so-called trial is tomorrow and I'll be taking Mary down to the jail to visit." announced Jasper, reaching for his leather portmanteau. His beige mackintosh was hung in the crook of his arm and wore a pinstripe suit that Alice laughingly called his "court armour."

Sean was languishing in Tralee Jail after claiming to be the mastermind behind the attacks on various army barracks. His cancer was advancing and the news of his condition was not encouraging. Jasper had been given permission to speak for him but it was becoming increasingly clearer that this would be far from a fair trial. The British were demanding culprits and names had to be produced. Justice was irrelevant. There was a terrible story of a raid on a house over in the West. The three sons were all involved in the struggle and the old man of the family was alone. The police and army had burst in, beaten him badly and finally shot him in front of his wife. They'd told him: "We need a man and you'll do" according to the devastated neighbours. Attacks and retaliations were becoming widespread and fear was spreading throughout the land.

Edward still felt a pang of conscience whenever he thought of the sacrifice Sean, a dying man had made, choosing to spend his few remaining weeks in a prison rather than with his wife. Mary quickly put a stop to the brooding once she moved into Edward's house as his new housekeeper.

"Sure and Sean is a dacent man and a wise one. Hasn't he made his choice? His sons will be raised under a slate roof and will never know the hardships we've known, slaving all day and living from hand to mouth. God grant that the boys grow in strength and pride and keep them free from hunger!" Mary had told him on her arrival in the house. The topic had not be raised again but Edward had made sure that the boys acquired the first pair of boots of their lives and had been enrolled in the Dingle National School where their unwilling minds were crammed with a pointless mixture of dates, algebraic rules and poems extolling the virtues of long-dead Roman heroes.

Jasper turned to look at his brothers, both lounging at the table. Even though the boys lived in their own homes, the Big House as it was called was a magnet to them and Esme often complained that they should "Clear out and eat their own families out of house and home" whilst making sure that a constant supply of cakes and scones kept them coming back .

"Right so," answered Emmett. "God willing the news'll be good."

"Ah well" said Jasper, shaking his head, "I have a bad feeling about this one. The lads down in West Cork and Meath have been putting the Brits under terrible pressure and they are looking to retaliate."

"Let us know as soon as you hear." Edward told him. Jasper nodded, adjusted his broad brimmed trilby and left.

The next days dragged on, waiting for news from Tralee. The family sat in the drawing room, trying to pass the time whilst all silently watching the clock. Alice was working on a piece of needlepoint but seeming making no progress, Rose gazed unseeingly at a book and Esme was fiddling with a flower arrangement. Edward and Emmett were sitting over a chessboard but moves were slow and neither man was really paying attention to the game. About four o'clock, a bang on the door startled the whole group and brought Edward running to answer. A small boy, panting with the exertion and obviously having raced from the town stood on the doorstep and proffered him a telegraph.

"News from Tralee, Doctor. 'Tis terrible altogether!"

Edward groaned and closed the door on the small boy before any further discussion could take place; the recipient of any telegram was always last to know the contents. Once it had been transmitted to the post office, the staff made it their business to spread the word amongst the neighbours. Ripping open the paper, he read the message. Jasper had not wasted words and the shock of the message was only enhanced by the blunt communication.

"Trial over (stop) No hope (stop) Death by firing squad tomorrow at noon (stop) J"

"Holy Mary Mother of God" Edward fell to his knees, head in hands. The sound had made the family come running and he silently held out the paper. Rushing to hold her son, Esme lowered her head to his, kissing his forehead and raising him up.

"Edward Og, Sean made his own choice and his decision was to die for Ireland, Mary and his boys." She paused, searching her son's face with her clear grey eyes before continuing quietly: "And to allow you and the lads to carry on the struggle. You will not let him down and you will not allow yourself to stain his sacrifice."

Edward drew himself up, kissed his mother and turned to the group. His face was white with emotion but his eyes were blazing.

"This is it. We are at war. We'll hold the council once Sean is home and we've waked his body. Tell the lads. Tomorrow we'll go to Tralee and bring him back."

Emmett nodded and left the house. Edward turned to the women.

"Go and get Bella and Kitty" he ordered. "They can't stay where they are now. Things are going to be too dangerous. Mammy, will you keep them safe here?"

"Edward mo mhac, my son, you even need to ask?" answered Esme, reaching up to the hat-stand for her coat and felt hat. "Come on girls, we'll away now."

Edward found himself alone in the hall. He turned on his heel and strode to the office where he knew he'd find Carlisle. Now was the time to start planning the mayhem Mick Collins had described when they were at King's College together.

It was in London, ironically, that he had first met the charismatic West Cork rebel. Michael Collins was a man to whom people listened. They'd spent hours in a pub on the Strand, discussing Irish politics whilst surrounded by the polite conversations of those they hoped to overthrow. Edward had joined the outlawed Irish Republican Brotherhood and had become more involved in the struggle as time had gone on. He had always known that the day for decisive action would come but had hoped against hope that negotiations might succeed before carnage broke out.

"Daddy" he said, opening the office door. The fire was it and a faint scent of cigars and pipe tobacco hung in the air. Carlisle stood at the table which dominated the room, a large scale map of the area spread out in front of him. He held the fountain pen which Edward had seen in his hands so many times. Unusually, a revolver was serving as a paperweight and Edward truly understood for the first time that his father was as engaged in the conflict as he himself was.

"The time is here isn't it?" the older man asked. His son nodded, silently.

"Right so, let's start planning. We can do this without bloodshed God willing." The two men blessed themselves and leaned over the map, each totally focused on the struggle to come.


	16. The Confession

If it were at all possible, the temperature was colder inside the church than outside on this bitter day. At least the thick, stone walls kept the cruel, biting wind out. It was a fitting day for the return of Sean's body. True to their word, the British had executed the dying man at noon the day before and had deposited his body in the middle of Tralee High Street for all to see. Jasper had been waiting for this moment and had tipped off a local boy who had been quick to cover the body with the outlawed tricolour, flag of the nationalists. The people of Tralee had shown incredible respect, the men uncovering their heads and all standing in silence as the body was recovered. Whatever the British had hoped to achieve had backfired on them.

The body had been brought home by a group of men and the funeral wake was to be held in Sean's cabin that night before the mass the next day. The body would be laid out and friends, neighbours and relatives would come to pay their respects. Edward had offered his own house but Mary had been firm: "Well now didn't Sean bring me here as a bride? And didn't we raise a family from here? And isn't it from here that he'll be taken for the last walk of his life?" she had said, quiet conviction in her voice. Esme was already cooking and Rose and Alice were helping to prepare the small cabin for the visiting mourners.

Edward sighed, his eyes adjusting to the weak winter light filtering through the windows of the church as he dipped his fingers in the freezing holy water, blessed himself and genuflected. He made his way through the body of the church, passing the scattered elderly women, shawls wrapped tightly over their heads, and listening to the comforting click of rosary beads passing through arthritic hands and the muttered prayers. The glowing red light over the confessional indicated that Father Moran was hearing the admissions of failure and desire to try harder to live a good life from his parishioners. Entering the confessional, Edward knelt and stared at the diamond patterns of the brass grill, every fine word he had ever had leaving his mind as he knelt before his God to bare his very soul.

"In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti" whispered the priest.

"Amen" Edward replied, blessing himself starting the formula of penitence. He ground to a halt, unable to frame the words which would describe the full horror of his act. The silence stretched out. Edward started to speak, stumbling over the words, his voice hoarse.

"Father… I have killed a man."

"By your own hand, son?" asked the voice from behind the grill.

"No Father, but as good as. I allowed someone to take the blame for my sins and that man is now dead. Had I held the very gun myself I couldn't have been more guilty of his death."

"Ah Edward" said the voice "Sure I know what you did and what Sean did. He came before me and told me what he was planning and begged me to tell him that no stain of sin would fall on you. And I did. He made his choice before his God and his King and no man would have stopped him. You are not guilty of another man's decision. You have no hand in his death. You are absolved of your sins. Ego te absolvo."

Edward sagged with relief.

"Now" continued the priest, his voice becoming stern. "For the theft of those guns from the barracks over at Castlegregory which you'll surely be confessing to me next, for your penance you will say an Ave and make sure that the wretched things are hidden."

"I will, Father" replied Edward.

"Dominus noster Jesus Christus te absolvat; et ego auctoritate ipsius te absolvo ab omni vinculo excommunicationis et interdicti in quantum possum et tu indiges. Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti _._ Amen" intoned the priest.

Edward left the confessional, his heart relieved. His mind would still run over Sean's incredible sacrifice, but knowing the man's intentions soothed his soul. His swift prayer over, he pushed open the side door of the church and found himself back in the bustle which was Dingle Town.

The rattle of iron wheeled carts over the stone road created a background din which was supplemented by the various cries of livestock being driven to the market and the deep, melancholy single ring of the church bell. The bell had started at noon the previous day and would keep tolling until Sean's body was brought to the church.

Brought back to the day, Edward paused and looked around him. Two trim figures making their way up the steep main street made his heart leap. Bella and Kitty were battling their way home from the general stores, baskets laden with brown paper wrapped packages. Edward strode forwards and relieved the pair of their burdens.

"The blessings of God to ye both this day." He stared before the weight of the baskets made his arms stretch "For the love of God, what have you two been buying? Rocks?"

"We have of course!' replied Kitty, smiling "sure we thought that the cottage needed a few more and sure didn't Lynch's have a special offer if you bought a gross?"

"Ah stop now Kitty" scolded Bella, gently and turning her large eyes to her beloved she added "we're baking for the wake. Esme says they've enough but now won't the whole parish be going?"

Edward's heart swelled with love and pride. The wake was a huge part of their society. Sean's body would be laid out in the house the night before the funeral and everyone would visit, drinking and eating and sharing stories of the deceased. The event would be talked about for years to come and it would be a shame on the family if Sean's wake was not carried out with full hospitality and ceremony. For the thousandth time, Edward thanked God that he was marrying this wonderful girl. What had he done to deserve such happiness? He looked down at the stones of the pavement as though they were somehow going to provide an answer.

Bella, seeing the set of Edward's shoulders, linked her arm with his and, under the gaze of assorted shoppers, the three made their way up the road to the cottage.

The tolling bell reminding the trio that sacrifice had been made and more would be made but their togetherness gave them all confidence to face whatever came. The night to come would be bittersweet but Edward, feeling the warmth of Bella's arm on his, knew that he would have the courage to face it.


	17. The Wake

**For anyone who doesn't know, in Ireland, a wake and funeral are a way of celebrating the life of the departed so their memory lives on. A wake is a bittersweet occasion; we are sad to see a passing and rejoicing that the deceased is with God and his Holy Mother. We eat, sing, dance, tell stories and share memories. My Grandfather, may he rest in peace, had a wake which was mighty and was talked about for at least twenty years after his passing and my Granny, God rest her, wrote a letter telling us "don't mourn my passing but be happy with me for I am with my God. Enjoy my wake!"**

Sounds of Sean's wake filtered down the mountain side as the Cullens approached along the stone track leading to the cabin. Opening the door, they were immediately enveloped in a warm smog of humanity, smoke from the turf fire and the sweet smell of tobacco from multiple pipes. The parlour was packed with people of all ages, from elderly women wrapped in thick black shawls, warming their ageing bones close to the fire as custom dictated to small babies, bundled up and asleep in their mothers' arms. Light flickered from candles and paraffin lamps for there was no electricity this far outside the town.

"Bean an ti, woman of the house, Blessings be on you and your family. Sorry we are for your trouble. May God be safe in the arms of our God this night." said Carlisle as Mary bustled over to greet the incomers. The family followed him with his greetings.

"Thanks be to God that so many people are here to see Sean isn't alone on his last night" Mary said quietly, gesturing around the room. "You'll raise a glass now?"

"We will of course" answered Carlisle " but first we'll pay our respects." Gesturing to the family, he led them into the only other room in the small cabin; the bedroom. Sean was laid out on the bed. Twelve candles surrounded him, symbolizing the twelve disciples. Eleven were lit but the twelfth, representing the traitor Judas, remained unlit as a constant reminder of his betrayal. A group of older ladies sat on stools around the walls, rosaries in hands. The rise and fall of their muttered prayers sounded like the distant humming of bees. As the Cullens came in, they stopped and waited. The family knelt by Sean's bedside and Carlislie started the rosary. Bella felt Edward's comforting warmth next to her as the chill of the earth floor seeped through her skirt. Esme had tears running down her face as she joined in the reponses.

Prayers finished, the family rose.

"Sean, it was a grand thing you did for us, for your family and for Ireland" Edward began slowly. Holding Bella's hand tightly, he continued. "I swear to you now, I will protect Mary and your boys from every hardship and will keep them safe under my own roof. God rest you and may his eternal light shine upon you. Your death will not be in vain." Bella could see that Edward was close to breaking and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. After a few more minutes, the family left Sean, following instructions from one of the auld ones to "touch the body and you'll never know loneliness" and walked back into the bright light and warmth of the parlour.

A table set up against the wall groaned with the results of Esme and Bella's cooking. A large ham took the centre, surrounded by mounds of floury potatoes bursting with butter, scones, buttered brown bread, glistening currant brack, jewel bright jams and a large seed cake. Carlisle had also been busy and had ensured that regiments of bottles were lined up and a huge cask was set up next to the table, offering mourners the chance to salute Sean with whiskey or porter. Mary's huge brown teapot was in constant demand and jugs of milk were stored on the deep window sill where the freezing night air kept the milk from turning.

Sitting down and armed with glasses of whiskey, the family tuned into the conversation. An elderly woman, wizened face peering out like an apple from the depths of her shawl was accepting a pipe of tobacco from a neighbour.

"Musha wasn't Sean a great one for the tobacco?" she asked. "Wasn't it many the times I saw him leaning on his slean after cutting the turf and drawing on his pipe with such joy that you'd think God himself was present?" The comment drew nods and smiles of recognition.

"Ah sure he was a great man for the music too. Come on now lads, give us a song" called a voice.

Nodding to Carlisle, Esme rose and sang "The Rambling Kerry Lad" to shouts of approbation and sly winks at Edward as the song described the lad's travels in America and ended with his lover staunchly defending him against her mother. Esme sat down to loud clapping to be replaced by a local farmer who recited a verse about a white bullock. As he sat down, another man piped up

"Sean was a powerful man with livestock now" he started as the company nodded to themselves "Jasper you'd recall the day we all went over to Ventry to buy that bull from Liam Og now?"

"I do of course" said Jasper "sure didn't Liam ply us with so much poteen that we were seeing double?"

"And thanks be to Saint Bridget that Sean stayed off the drink now. Wasn't I about to do the deal when Sean pipes up to me: "Yerra are you blind there Michael? Sure hasn't that bull only one ball?" and me there who was thinking it not only had two but sure wasn't it a miracle animal there with eight legs to it?"

"Ah well we were fluthered! I haven't had poteen like it before or since" laughed Jasper "and didn't Sean say to Liam "Liam Og, you're selling half an animal at twice the price, would you think we're hatched new from the egg?" He was a great one for joking, Sean."

Laughter broke out from this comment and several of the women wiped their eyes surreptitiously with the edges of their shawls. The mood was becoming somber and calls for another song went up. This time, at a nod from Carlisle, Edward stood up and started the romantic ballad "The Rose of Tralee". As the company recognized the first words sung in his sweet baritone, a sigh of contentment went round and they all joined in the chorus: "she was lovely and fair like the rose of the summer, yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me, ah no, twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee."

Bella gazed at this incredible man through new eyes. He was an educated man of science who was at home in the Cullen's grand house mixing with the English and was equally at ease in this tiny thatched cottage, surrounded by farmers and country people in their worn Sunday best, singing a love song for all the world to hear and… she blushed… looking straight at her! To a round of applause, Edward took his seat and Bella caught a few sly nods in her direction from some of the gathered women. Ah let them nod!

The evening wore on and the company alternated between songs, dancing and stories of Sean's life which became increasingly exaggerated as the cask emptied. The singing became general and thatch roof was almost raised with a heartfelt rendition of "Boolavogue" the famous rebel song about Father Murphy leading his men in Wexford during the 1798 rebellion.

"Sure aren't we always rebelling about something now?" asked a plaintive voice.

"Yerra Seamus" came a reply "now haven't you been rebelling against work these sixty years? Sure the rust on your spade is a sight to behold! A couple of English'd be no competition for a seasoned rebel like yourself!"

To howls of laughter, Seamus shrugged his shoulder and raised his glass.

"To Sean" he called "A brave man."

"To Sean" the general response came.

The family finally made their departure as dawn was breaking. Sean had been properly waked and the night had passed in a way that would be remembered for years. The boys would be told again and again how the whole town had turned out for their Daddy, God rest his soul, and that the craic had been mighty.

Shivering slightly in the morning chill and exhausted from the emotions of the evening, Bella huddled inside her thin coat. Noticing and glancing at his mother who nodded to him, Edward wrapped his arm around her, bringing her close to his side. She felt the warmth of his body and the movement of his breath. For a moment, it was as though they were alone, here on the Western edge of the world, listening to the murmur of the waves below and the soft sounds of the musicians flitering down from the cottage as the shafts of sunlight broke weakly though the clouds and reflected a pearlescent shimmer on the still surface of the Atlantic.

"I love you Edward" she whispered to him "Each day I see you, I see more beauty in your soul."

"As I do in yours" he answered gently and, bound close to each other, they followed the family back to the Town.

 **reviews are like the sounds of the waves against the strand, playing in my heart!**


	18. At the station

The funeral was over and Dingle was starting to settle down. There was a feeling of residual sadness mingled with quiet pride which hung over the town and tainted every interaction.

"The lads want revenge." Jasper told Edward. The brothers were sitting around in the library. Edward, his feet resting on a footstool, was pouring over a copy of The Times which had just arrived. The paper was a week out of date but the Edward had always following Michael Collin's advice to know his enemy better than himself. There were rumours of a new force being recruited and a worrying advert was appearing in the British press offering ten shillings a day to men willing to take on a "rough and dangerous task". This was not going to end well.

"And what do you propose we use for this revenge?" asked Emmett. "Pitchforks and hurley sticks? Sure we'd be massacred in minutes."

Edward lifted his head from his paper. "Emmett's right. We rush into something, we'll be crushed. We need to stock up. Jasper, what do we have?"

"Ten or so Mauser rifles, couple of pistols… We could maybe hold our own against a meeting of the Legion of Mary but the army would see for us and not break their stride."

"So we stock up" announced Edward. Standing up and going over to the large table, he opened a drawer and unfolded the map which he and Carlisle had studied only days before. Bending over, he indicated a spot with his pen. "First we hit the quiet RIC stations. No bloodshed, sure these boys are our own and they'll give up their weapons as quiet as lambs. Every night we go out. Once we have a dacent stockpile as the man said, we'll hit the barracks in Tralee. I want every RIC station within a fifty mile radius out of action."

"You and Daddy have planned this, haven't you?" asked Emmett, recognizing the handwriting on the map.

"We have. He'll advise. Doesn't he know the county like the back of his hand?" responded Edward. The brothers nodded, realising the enormity of the proposed action. That their father was involved somehow made the stakes even higher.

"Jasper, get the lads ready. Up the drills. I want them to be invisible, in and out. And we will not take life. Tell them all, particularly that hothead Liam."

Jasper nodded. "Ah don't worry about him. I have him under control. He steps out of line, the rest of the boys'll be down on him. We're all agreed, we'll fight back but we won't be murderers like the English."

A quiet knock on the door broke the brothers' focus. Covering the map with a cloth, Edward called out, "who is it?"

"Mammy!" answered Esme, pushing the door open and immediately crossing the room to the window. "Would you look at the fug in here!" she scolded, throwing open the sash. "Haven't I told you a million times Emmett to keep that filthy pipe outside?"

"You have."

"And aren't you still here in my house, raising smoke which would make a farmer cough?"

"I am." Said Emmett, utterly unaffected and pulling on the said pipe. A large cloud of smoke hung over him as his mother shook her head.

"Honestly, you are the scourge of my heart you terrible child." She scolded.

"Yerra Mammy, don't you love it?" asked her son, grabbing his mother and waltzing her around the room.

"Saints be praised, you have grey hairs sprouting from my head with your antics! Anyway, come on boys, we've a train to catch and it won't be waiting on your foolishness!" Straightening her hair, Esme disentangled herself from Emmett and the boys followed her to the hallway.

The hall had been transformed into what looked like a luggage mountain. A large pile of suitcases covered the black and white tiles and Seamus, the gardener, was struggling under the weight of a large, leather strapped trunk. A pony and trap stood outside, the trap already half laden with cases.

"Mammy, you're going to London shopping, not stocking the shops!" exclaimed Emmett somewhat unwisely. His mother turned on him.

"And do you suggest that we do that naked, a chara?" she asked archly making her son blush and his brothers snigger.

Eventually the loading was done and the family made their progress down to the station. As they walked, Esme spoke seriously to the boys.

"I won't ask you what you'll be up to whilst we're gone but you'll be careful with it?"

"We will, Mammy" they chorused.

"And you'll remember that no one goes near the old famine village beyond won't you? Sure it'd be a great place to put things that needed to be kept quiet."

The boys nodded, grinning. The site Esme was talking about was exactly the spot they had earmarked for their stockpile. The village had been deserted during the Great Famine when people had died in their thousands, desperate for food. Carlisle's great grandfather had stepped in and saved the district, buying up land from the Anglo-Irish absentee landlord and stopping his heartless evictions. As the crops had failed, poor tenant farmers had been unable to pay their rents and absentee landlords had turned them out to starve, burning the thatches of their humble cabins to make sure that the families couldn't return. There was deep hatred and a well of bitterness against the Anglo-Irish which poisoned the countryside. Even now, local people spoke about the Cullens in tones of gratitude. Unlike other parts of the country, they hadn't seen their neighbours dying in the road for want of food as, all the time, exports of produce and livestock flowed from the famished land into England.

The family reached the small station where the train was already standing at the platform, huffing out large clouds of steam like a metal dragon. Through the mists, Edward saw Bella and Kitty waiting, looks of anticipation on their faces. Further down the platform, a large family was gathered around a young man. The mother, head wrapped in her black shawl, was crying openly. An emigrant, bound for who knew where. The tiny farms couldn't support more than one family and what hope was there in Ireland?

One day, thought Edward, people will come to us. We won't be sending the cream of our youth abroad. All his fierce musing fled as he reached Bella and saw the faint rose flush on her face as she looked at him. Her eyes were bright and sparking with the coming adventure.

"The blessing of Mary and all the Saints to you" she called merrily to the group. Alice and Rose, travelling bags in hand rushed to greet the cousins.

"Ah girls" replied Esme, "aren't you the sight for sore eyes? You'll have London in uproar!"

Edward wasn't sure that he liked the sound of this! He cleared his throat.

"You'll telegram when you get there?"

"Ah go'way boy" replied Esme "Sure haven't I travelled the world with your Daddy and aren't I here standing to tell the tale? We'll be at the Shelbourne on St Stephen's Green in Dublin and I'll call from there. We'll take the boat train over to London on Friday and we'll be back before you know it" And with this, she chivvied the girls on to the train and Jasper closed the door. Leaning out of the window, she spoke quietly to the boys, tears shining in her eyes.

"I am proud of my fine sons. God bless you all and keep you safe."

With a sharp whistle, the train pulled away from the platform, leaving the brothers in a cloud of steam and smoke. Looking at each other they nodded, drawing up their shoulders and striding off to face the coming challenge.

 **Reviews make Irish eyes smile!**


	19. In Dublin's Fair City

Bella and Kitty had made the journey from Dingle to Dublin many times in the past but travelling with Esme Cullen was a revelation. Within seconds of their arrival at Tralee, Esme had a platoon of porters dancing attendance on her. The group's transfer to the Dublin train was painless and they drew out of the station leaving behind at least five men whose families would be benefitting from Esme's lavish tips.

Settling back in her seat in the First Class carriage, Esme surveyed her brood. "Now girls. We might not get this chance to speak freely again, so here is the plan"

Bella sat up, leaning her back against the stiff, horsehair cushions of the seats. Shopping she was anticipating but this sounded a lot more serious than trying on going-away outfits.

"Ah Bella asthoreen, don't look so worried! We'll get to Dublin, have a bit of tea and then straight to bed. Tomorrow it'll be to the hairdressers we'll go. We'll shed the country look and get gussied up."

Bella relaxed. Esme smiled mischievously.

"And then tomorrow night it'll be straight to Dublin Castle with us."

Kitty gasped, Dublin Castle was the seat of British rule. What kind of game was Esme playing?

"Remember girls," Esme continued serenely, ignoring the dramatic reactions on the faces around her. "We can do what we do because we wear the mask. In town, we'll be eminent supporters of Anglo Saxon rule. At home, we'll be us. God willing, one day we can lose the artifice but for now that is what the cause requires. We'll go to the Castle and listen and learn. I count on you."

"We'll not let you down Mammy" promised Rose and the girls nodded their agreement.

"Sure isn't the best way of fighting from within? Haven't the English taught us well and can't we use their own game against them? We have them on the run. All those grand G men and detectives, aren't they all hunting Michael Collins high and low and him cycling through the middle of Dublin bold as brass in broad daylight? The might of the British Empire my foot! I'd rather be ruled by Pat Courtney's auld cow!"

The girls smiled gleefully at this image and Esme settled back, her glorious auburn hair resting on the cream linen anti-Macassar. She looked like a cat who had not only got the cream but had also secured access to the creamery. Satisfied that her words had sunk in, she pulled a copy of Tatler out of her bag and started reading.

The day and the journey zoomed by. Bella watched the outskirts of Dublin appearing with a pain of anguish. He mother, rest her soul, had always started getting excited once they reached this point and would start reciting a litany of the pleasures they had to look forward to in the City.

Correctly identifying her cousin's thoughts, Kitty squeezed her hand and said "Your Mammy, God rest her, would be happy to see you this day with your new family."

"I'd say she's looking down on you" added Alice.

"God rest her and all the martyrs" Rose joined in, blessing herself.

For the first time, Bella realised that she was no longer alone; God had taken her parents but He'd given her this new, wonderful family. "Blessed be his name forever" she muttered thankfully.

On arrival at Dublin, the now familiar gang of porters converged on the family, swiftly followed by a gang of urchins who appeared to materialise from nowhere. Barefoot and with grimy, spindly legs turned blue and mottled with cold, they were a pitiful sight.

"Clear off you brats or you'll feel the back of me hand!" bellowed the Head Porter.

"They will not!" Esme drew herself up "sure and didn't Our Lord Himself suffer the little children to come unto him? These boys are starving, look at them through Our Lord's eyes and soften your heart!"

The porter shuffled his feet, looking down "ah now you make me ashamed. I'm not a hard man there missus but there's so many of the poor little things from the Liberties slums and we're under instructions to turn them out."

"Well now, we can change that "answered Esme handing the man a few sovereigns. You're a good man and I see truth in your eyes. You'll feed them every day?"

"I will missus and God Bless you this day!"

The urchins had watched this transaction with wide eyes. Turning to them, the porter said:

"Yerra lads, this is your lucky day for sure! Thank the lady now and go and wait over at Tierney's cafe and I'll be there in two shakes of a donkey's tail"

"Thanks missus. Mary and all the saints bless and keep you."

"And to you boys" answered Esme "and you do what the good man tells you!"

"We will to be sure" the gaggle replied as they sped off down the chilly platform, black feet pattering on the stone.

Esme sighed "well now, it's a terrible pass that our country has come to when we can't feed pour own children! We'll see what can be done but now time and hairdressers wait for no man!" gathering her girls, she swept out of the station leaving a trail of gratitude in her wake. Rose and Alice took the drama in their stride, clearly used to Esme in full flight but Bella and Kitty gazed after her, looks of stunned admiration on their faces.

"Ah this is nothing "whispered Alice, catching the looks and interpreting them correctly "you should have seen her in action when she caught a man beating a donkey in Killarney last year. I'd say that was a scolding the town are still talking about!"

After a good night's sleep and an afternoon at the hairdresser, the girls returned to the hotel, hair piled up and decorated with jewelled combs and exhilarated by their afternoon in the bustling city to be g reeted by Patrick, the doorman.

"Ah sure there you are Lady Esme! Back and looking as beautiful as the lilies in the field!

"Ah stop with the buttering now Patrick! Sure haven't you said the self-same thing to me these past fifty years?"

"I have be God and I'll say them another fifty if the Lord sees fit! There's a letter here for you from his Lordship. Missing you I dare say!"

"Lady?" hissed Kitty.

"His Lordship?" answered Bella.

Back in their sitting room, Esme hurried over to the writing desk and slit open the envelope with a paper knife. As she surveyed the contents, the cousins swapped looks of incomprehension.

"Daddy's a Marquess didn't you know? asked Rose, having followed the puzzled glances. Bella thought of Carlisle, country doctor and landowner striding around in an old tweed suit with leather patches at the elbows. Esme herself was more likely to be found drinking tea in cabins than hobnobbing with the county. The Cullens clearly had wealth but titles?

"Ah yes" said Esme, turning to join in. "I always forget that you didn't grow up around us and your parents never saw this part of our lives. Carlisle is the eighth Marquess of Kerry which makes me a Marchioness. Better than a Baronet but not as elevated as an Earl! The Irish peerage of course…"

"Of course" echoes Bella weakly.

"We don't use the title at home and I would say that most of Dingle has forgotten we have it. It's like having a hat that you take out, wear from time to time, remember that it never suited you and then put away again. You'll never hear Carlisle referred to as anything other than the "Doctor"… or, much to his irritation, the "auld Doctor" now Edward's back! It'll be very useful here and of course you'll be presented to the King at Court after your marriage"

"Presented?"

"Of course. We all get dressed, go over and remind the English that there is civilisation in our barbarian land!"

"But you're Catholic!"

"We are of course, one of Carlisle's ancestors converted to marry a local girl and isn't the family the better for it? There was a massive scandal and we're still tainted with the stain of being flighty! My own family were in two minds about letting me marry into the Cullens but Carlisle managed to persuade them!" she smiled in recollection. "Now, this is for you" holding out an envelope, Bella recognised Edward's writing. He must have written as soon as she left.

"May I?" she asked Esme.

"Go'way now. As if you ever need to ask, achushla!"

With trembling fingers, Bella opened the envelope.

"My darling girl" Edward had written, "You have only just left and I am missing you badly. Even though my brothers are here, I feel so lonely. All this years that I have been alone, I never realised that I wanted for anything and now I know that I was only marking time until I met you. I love you more than words can express and the day that you become my wife will be the proudest of my life. I will strive my whole life to be worthy of your love. Until I see you again, I keep you in my thoughts, my prayers and my heart. A gra mo chroi, I love you. Edward"

Bella didn't even bother to stop the tears which flowed from her eyes and her heart. Within seconds, she found herself wrapped in Esme's warm embrace.

"Don't cry there mavourneen." She crooned, rocking Bella as she spoke.

"He loves me" Bella sobbed.

"He does of course," said Esme confidently, "as you love him. You'll make a grand couple! Now go and wash yourself; sure it would never do to turn up at the Castle looking like the maid that spilt the milk!"

Bella managed a weak smile and went off to tidy herself up.

Before leaving her room a few hours later, Esme took a deep breath. The worst was to come. Looking at herself in the glass, she drew herself up "come on now girl, show a bit of backbone!" With a final, satisfied glance at her reflection, she smiled and said "not bad for a culchie country girl! And now to face the Castle." So saying, she collected her reticule from the chair, adjusted the gems which decorated her hair and left the room for an evening of light social chatter and deadly serious espionage.

 **Your reviews are better than evenings spent up on the Conor Pass watching the reflection of the setting sun on the mountain lakes. Thank you!**


	20. Women of Ireland

Carlisle was striding out of the main doors of the Tralee hospital when a small figure dressed in a scruffy uniform barreled into him.

"Steady on there, lad!" said Carlisle, holding the boy by his shoulders. He immediately recognized Flynn, the telegraph boy and automatically took the missive which the boy grubbed out of his brown leather satchel.

"Telegram from Dublin, Mister Doctor" panted the boy, his undersized frame shaking with the effort of his apparent race to get the communication to the doctor. "From Dublin!" he repeated, nodding gravely and looking at Carlisle to see if the serious nature of the telegram had been acknowledged. Carlisle nodded back, biting back a smile. For Flynn, anything north of Tralee was an unknown quantity and the idea of chatting with someone in Dublin, home of the terrifying army, was incomprehensible.

Handing the boy a coin which made his face light up, Carlisle turned away and read the telegram:

"Tell the boys to delay their party (stop) Extra guests are arriving from Dublin (stop) We don't want the house too crowded (stop) Esme"

"The little darling" muttered Carlisle admiringly. He had known all about Esme's dinner at the Castle and it seemed as though the trip had paid off. Whistling "the Wearing of the Green" happily to himself, he continued on his intended path towards the classical grey stone courthouse where his sons were waiting.

"Fine day, Daddy" called Jasper. The three men were huddled together in the shadow cast by the large brass cannon which commemorated the Kerrymen who had died in the Crimea ("Fightin' against the poor auld Russians for the Saxon robbers" as one local man put it). Gathering his sons, Carlisle read out the contents of the telegram and paused to watch them process the information.

"Your Mother's been entertained at Dublin Castle ' he explained. "I'd say that your antics have had a bit of an effect. My guess is that there are reinforcements coming down before you take out the barracks in Tralee."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what is Mammy up to? She's putting herself and the girls in terrible danger. There's people go into the Castle that never come out." hissed Emmett.

"Listen boy" said Carlisle sternly "I know that ye three think that you invented the word "rebel" but sure haven't we been in the game for longer than you? Your Mammy was involved in the struggle before you were even a gleam in my eye!" Gleefully watching his oldest son cringe, he carried on: "After all, did you not ever stop to question why you were named after Robert Emmet, the hero of the first rebellion?"

Watching his brother's discomfort, Jasper stepped in. "Yerra, the girls can handle themselves" he said firmly "and I'd be the one to back Mammy against the might of the Castle any day of the week! Thanks be to God for good women."

"We'll see who's coming down from Dublin" said Edward in a low voice. "We've hit every barracks in a fifty mile radius and sure it was only a matter of time. No point poking the devil for the sake of it! The guns are wrapped up snug as a bug in oilcloths and hidden deep in the famine village. By God but we got a fine haul of mortars from Castleisland! Sergeant Fitzgerald handed them over good as gold, sure didn't he even help to load the cart! Mammy has done us a good service this day."

"She's a grand woman, your Mammy" answered Carlisle. "God help the English once the women get involved!"

Stepping back to allow an open army lorry to rattle past, the four men continued on their way along Denny Street and past the statue of the Pikeman, commemorating the 1798 rebellion to where Emmett's car was parked in between two horseless carts. Shooing off the inevitable gaggle of children, they started out of town. Driving along the coast road and along the Banna Strand where the white of the long waves made furrows in the grey water, they spared a prayer for Sir Roger Casement who had tried to land weapons for the Fenians in 1916 and had been executed for his trouble.

"Jaysus, every inch of the country reminds you of sacrifice!" exclaimed Emmett.

"And shows why we'll win. Sure you cut down one of us, aren't there ten more ready to take his place?" responded Edward.

The car rattled along the road that led over the mountains and down into the small town of Dingle. The evening was falling fast and there was a definite bite to the air. The month was turning and a couple of weeks' peace before Christmas wouldn't be the worst thing. Already, there was an air of anticipation in the countryside as people tried to fatten up livestock for the coming feast.

Eventually the car crunched along the gravel driveway of the Big House and the men were dismayed to see another vehicle in situ.

"By Mary and all the Saints, what fresh hell is this?" muttered Edward rhetorically.

Maggie opened the big double doors before the men had time to reach for the handle.

"God's blessing to you all sirs" she called loudly "sure aren't we honoured to have a visit from Colonel Markham-Caius? He's waiting for yez in the Drawin' Room."

Throwing his shoulders back, Carlisle grimaced before transforming his face into a mask of welcome. Walking into the drawing room, he was at once the local squire welcoming a cherished guest.

"Colonel, you're very welcome! You've got a drink? Well now, you've got great timing. My wife is up at Dublin Castle this very night and here you are down here!"

Clever, clever Daddy, thought Edward. Pre-empt any doubt and remind the man that we're connected. At least in the way he acknowledges!

"Ah Doctor" answered the Colonel "looks like there are a couple of Fenian dogs around here. We've a new crowd coming down who'll set those rebels right."

The men feigned surprise.

"We have intelligence that they're not local, apparently the leader is from Cork. We raided a lodging house in Blennerville last week and it looks as though they have all left but it never pays to be too careful." The Colonel nodded snugly, his narrow stoat's head grotesque in the shadows cast by the fire. Edward and Jasper exchanged a covert glance; the plan to spread false information was paying dividends. They had taken enormous care to set up the lodging house with train tickets and scribbled notes indicating false targets.

The evening dragged on. The Colonel held strong views on the youth of the day, the lazy slackers claiming unemployment in England, the shiftless Irish who didn't know a good thing when it and the hopeless quest of the Irish horse Troytown which was bound to be beaten squarely in the Grand National race in March. The Cullens listened to this tirade of invective with a growing sense of disgust; the man was without any redeeming qualities! Eventually the Colonel stood to take his leave, turning down Carlisle's apparently heartfelt offer of a bed for the night.

"I need to be back. The men will be in from Dublin in the morning and I will personally ensure that we weed out any remaining rebels."

"And we wish you every success with that" answered Emmett in a voice vibrant with innocent sincerity.

After the Colonel's departure, the men gathered in the library. Carlisle walked over to the heavy lead crystal decanter and poured out healthy measures. Raising his glass, the amber liquid glowing in the reflections in the candlelight, he turned to his sons. Emmett was smiling to himself as he reflected over the events of the evening; Jasper's face was calm and his attention focused on his father; Edward was frowning in concentration as he made notes in a small, leather bound notebook. Carlisle knew that Edward recorded everything meticulously in a strange code which he had devised from a combination of Irish, Latin and Greek. Anyone who glanced at the book would think it was nonsense but Carlisle knew that it was a repository of local knowledge, snippets of overheard intelligence and plans for his troops. Edward was a marvel, his father thought, relieved that his youngest son had found a helpmeet who would share his lonely command.

"A toast, boys" he announced. "To freedom. Slainte!"

"Slainte" replied his sons, raising their glasses in response.

"And to our wives" added Jasper "such strength and such beauty. Truly God has blessed us."

The men smiled in response and, glancing at the portrait of Esme which hung over his desk, Carlisle drank deeply. Edward thought about Bella lying in a Dublin hotel. She would have received his letter by now. Two more months and she would be his forever. The warmth of the whiskey was nothing compared to the glow of happiness he felt when he thought of his coming marriage. Please God that he would be worthy of her.

Seeing that Jasper and Emmett were bent over the chessboard, Carlisle moved over to his son.

"Never doubt yourself, boy" he said quietly. "You're an excellent doctor, a fine commander and you'll make Bella a good husband God willing."

"What if I let her down? I can't give up the struggle. I can risk my own life but how can I put her in danger?" asked his son, the naked fear showing on his fine features.

"Yerra, she's an amazing creature. I knew her when her family, may they rest in peace, were still with us and I saw her pick herself up after they were killed. There'd be many wouldn't recover from such a thing but Bella wouldn't be one of them. Doesn't she run that printers by herself? She has amazing backbone." his father replied. Swirling his whiskey around his glass, he continued reflectively: "She's another Esme. God knows, without your mother, I would be a shadow of a man. Bella will stand by you, boy and wouldn't ask you to choose between her and your country. You'll be stronger together, trust me!"

Edward nodded slowly, gazing into the fire.

"I miss her, Daddy."

"As I miss your Mammy and the boys miss Rose and Alice. You can't cage them up. The biggest mistake any man can make is treating his wife like a fragile flower!"

Catching the end of this declaration, Emmett called over.

"By all the Saints, this nonsense the English poets peddle about women being the weaker sex is as healthy as a field of blight. Sure doesn't it make us lose half our strength? You've only to look at the women roundabouts, helping in the fields, raising a gaggle of children and doing twice the work of a man. I made the mistake once of telling Rose she needed protecting!" he looked rueful. "I won't make that error twice let me tell you! Didn't she drag me to see Mr Yeat's play "Cathleen Ni Houlihan" every night for two weeks as penance?"

The men laughed. "Cathleen Ni Houlihan" used a woman to symbolize Ireland's pain and was a clear call for sacrifice. Emmett was not known for his love of culture, clever Rose!

Carlisle leaned his hand on his youngest son's shoulder, trying to convey his love in a gesture.

"Go to bed boy and think that the women will be in London by tomorrow. Esme on a mission is a human tornado! The English won't know what's hit them!"

And with that , Edward had to be content. Five more days and she would be back. Forty five days and she'd be his. Forever. His rebel wife.

 **Reviews are as warming as a glass of whisky in front of a roaring fire! And thank you so much to whoever is recommending this story. I love seeing readers from all over the world sharing in our story.**


	21. The Anglo Saxon charm

The bells of the Angelus, the midday cycle of prayers to the Blessed Virgin Mary, reached their conclusion. As the final notes faded away, all over Ireland, people paused, blessed themselves and daily life resumed. Conversations restarted, shopkeepers returned to wrapping purchases and farmers replaced their tweed caps and pushed their spades back into the rich Irish soil. Blessing himself and sighing as he offered up a prayer for Bella and his family over in England, Edward turned to face the men gathered around him.

"Yerra, we're taking an awful risk meeting here in the broad daylight!" offered James.

"Not at all!" answered Emmett calmly. "We have it on good authority that the army is busy for these few days checking under the turf stacks in Cahersiveen." Sergeant Riley had been particularly helpful in sharing information about the army's plans. The false information left for the Colonel to find was reaping dividends and the men from Dublin had been on a wild goose chase around the countryside ever since their arrival.

"Cahersiveen?" asked James, bemused "sure there'd nothing going on down there! The highest excitement they've seen in years is when the goat fell in the Holy Well. Sure if they ever get the electricity, the whole town will stop to watch the light bulb."

A laugh went through the company; nothing was better than poking gentle fun at other small towns. In truth, Cahersiveen was a prosperous little town and the people now different to those currently sitting around Edward's polished dining table but such is rural life.

"Now, lads" said Edward, "we've done well so far but now is the time to consolidate. We have a fine cache of weapons thanks be to God but we've precious little discipline. I've see you marching and ye are as bad as a group of altar boys out on a day trip!"

"Musha worse I'd say!" Liam interjected "sure Father Moran would have had us polishing the brass for weeks if we'd straggled around like at Mass! Or worse… You'll remember now Edward Og.."

The men laughed. Father Moran was a holy terror. Edward remembered vividly the beating he'd received for setting off bangers during the consecration.

"I do by God and can't I feel it now and then when the weather's cold!" he smiled, rubbing the affected parts to the glee of the men.

"So here's the plan, Jasper'll take drill every day God willing. We'll meet up beyond the old fairy fort. We need to be better than the British. We won't be dealing with our Royal Irish Constabulary men who'd sooner throw us the keys than let us down. When we go to Tralee, we'll be up against trained soldiers."

"Ah sure didn't we fight side by side with their trained soldiers over in France? And weren't they better men in every way than these young pups? I'd say I could teach those lads a few lessons I learned in the trenches!" said Seamus hotly. Like many Irish men, he'd spent four years as a volunteer in the British Army, fighting for a cause which he believed was right. The call to volunteer in the Great War had been well and truly answered in Ireland and the British had lost many allies by trying to force conscription on the Irish. Seamus had lost friends and comrades and had returned to Dingle quiet and contemplative but prone to bursts of sadness and, like Edward, with a scathing view of the idiocies and cruelties of the British military command.

Turning to look at Seamus, Edward's face softened. He had huge respect for the old soldier who, although he couldn't have been more than forty years old, had the weathered brown face of a fisherman who spent his life being baked by the sun, whipped by the winds which came racing in from the Atlantic and watered by the salt spray rising from the beating of the oars.

"My soul from the devil, Seamus, sure couldn't you lead the whole sorry lot of them? But you're one man and would you look at the young lads you have around you? We need them trained or they'll go off half cock with guns in hand and God forbid that happen."

The group nodded sagely.

"Go on then boy. Carry on with the coffin for the corpse won't walk!" answered Sean, appeased.

"We'll meet daily at five. There's no one around there to go sticking in their beaks where they shouldn't be and we'll be grand for an hour or so and the lads'll be back for milking if need be. Mary Joseph, God grant her a long life, will keep an eye on the road and send one of the children up if anyone comes close." Jasper explained. The men nodded again. Mary Joseph was a good woman alright.

In a country where calling: "Mary! Brigid! or Kathleen!" during a busy market day would make three quarters of the women's heads turn, attaching a husband's name to the wife's identified exactly which Mary was being discussed. Other, less charming forms of identification also abounded. The man who helped out on the milk cart rejoiced in the moniker "Humpeen Mike" because of his hunched back. There was no malice in the name and been known as "little hump" hadn't stopped Mike from finding himself a decent wife.

The men were in agreement and the conversation turned to general matters. Christmas was fast approaching and the peddlers had arrived in the town, selling their ribbons and nick-knacks around the far flung hamlets. There was a sense of anticipation and the first Advent candle had been lit on Sunday. Every home had an Advent wreath and the candle would be lit every night before prayers were offered to the Saviour. Women were busy making puddings and polishing up the cottages and the men were deputized to make sure that the houses were in perfect order to greet the Christ child.

"Musha hasn't Brigid had me whitewashing the auld cottage? And me with a thousand things to do?" complained Liam.

"Ah sure the rebellion can cope without your hands for a week now lad!" called Seamus as Liam glowered down at the table.

"Well lads, let's get on with the day for God had given us sun and we know what a precious gift that is!" called Edward amidst the general chatter which had broken out.

The men rose, collected their caps and hats from the hat stand hunching themselves back into their battered tweed jackets and, one by one, left through the back door. Edward could hear the sounds of hobnails, tapping sharply on the cobbles, fading as the men disappeared down the side alley.

A thousand odd miles and a world away, Kitty and Bella sat in front of a table laden with delicate bone china tea cups, plates of daintily iced cakes and wafer thin bread and butter and various bowls of jam, all watched over by a silver teapot sitting on a small gas burner. A string quartet dressed in white tie and tails played softly in the corner and the genteel murmur of society gossip rose from every table. The room was filled with women of all ages all dressed for an afternoon in one of London's finest hotels. Coats had been surrendered and Bella's eyes were drawn to the sumptuous velvets, rich furs and hats gorgeously decorated with plumes and feathers. Snatches of conversation rose up like fish above the muted roar of the conversation sea:

"And imagine my dear, she can't find staff and has to survive with only two parlour maids!"

"My chauffeur told me as calm as you please that he was leaving to work in the new car factory! The cheek of the man!"

"Crushed velvet… but very short!"

"All those new money City people moving in. The area's going into decline. There isn't one house left in Surrey that I would be willing to be invited to!"

"Clarissa came home from London with her hair cut off! She looks like a man! Well I thought that her Father would have apoplexy…"

Bella looked around at the sharp, painted faces and yearned for the mountains of Dingle, the honest openness of her neighbours and, above all, the gentle love of her Edward.

"Well now, far from this we were raised!" whispered Kitty, winking at her cousin.

"Thanks be to God!" returned Bella, fervently. "Sure look at them, it's like putting lipstick on a pig! There's no kindness in them."

"There is not. I'd say that there are many decent people in England but none of them saw fit to come to Claridge's Hotel today! There's spite here which I never thought I'd live to see. Too long in power I'd say!"

The cousins sat in silence, a growing sense of revulsion for the shallow, society women around them whose lives centred on seeking their own comfort at the expense of others was building within them. Both had been brought up to think of others as equals, to consider how they could help and, most importantly, to see themselves as God's children, humble and willing. An especially shrill voice broke into their reveries:

"Look over there at all those parcels! Wretched Americans! All their tainted money buying up our heritage! You know that Lady Mercan had been forced to sell her Park Lane house? And to whom you may ask? Car people, my dear, from Detroit! Industrialists! Probably still covered in oil and sitting in that wonderful house. Oh the shame of it!"

"No, I recognise them. They're worse than Americans... Irish!" sneered the second woman in a tone which indicated deep distain.

"Bogtrotters!" sniggered her charming companion. "I had an Irish maid. She claimed that she could speak English but my dear, the noises that came out of her mouth! Hideous. I had to tell her to remain absolutely silent until after twelve, I simply couldn't cope. And her hands, coarse as you like. She had the nerve to tell me that she was saving her wages and couldn't afford handcream! Imagine. As her name! Bridget! Well I changed that straight away. Parlour maids should be called decent names like Mabel."

Glancing over Kitty's shoulder, Bella saw the two women incline their over-decorated hats to each other in agreement.

"Well, my dear," the shrill voice started up again, "the woman with all the parcels. She's the Marchioness of Kerry. Lives in some shiftless place in the back of beyond. She was the Honorable Esme Fitzgerald. We did the season together. Quite hopeless, one just can't civilise them. Catholic of course and the manners, my dear, of a country bumpkin. They shouldn't be allowed to come here and be part of our Season. They're just savages!"

"Quite right my dear, one can't trust them. The sooner they are brought to heel the better! Hanging's too good for them!"

Shocked and willing to listen to any more of this stream of vitriol, Bella and Kitty rose and made their way towards where Esme was standing, surrounded by a sea of delivery boys, all holding piles of boxes from every major store in London. Looking anxiously at Bella's pale face, Esme drew her close with a gloved hand.

"Bella mo chroi, what is it? Sure you're as pale as milk."

Seeing that her cousin was beyond words, Kitty stepped in: "we've been hearing some view on the Irish in general and you in particular from the auld cat with the hat that looks as though a hen has died on it!"

Turning to see who Kitty was describing, Esme smiled and patter Bella's arm.

"Ah Victoria Miller! She's a terrible scald! I've known her since I was a girl. Word drop like worms from her mouth and everyone is an enemy. Sure if you set your face to world looking for trouble, won't you find that there's plenty of it?" Leaning closer to the cousins and a look of pure mischief on her face, Esme whispered: "And for all her views on the Irish, didn't she set her cap for my Carlisle? Sure she chased him like an auld dog after the butcher's cart!"

Doubled up with laughter, Esme linked her arms around the cousins and led them towards the lift.

"Don't worry girls, there are plenty of people in the world like Victoria, God protect us and grant us strength against their bitter words, but plenty more who are dacent and God fearing. Victoria's spleen will only poison herself and won't she be the one to be suffering at the end of it? Stay true to your values girls and you'll never go wrong. She's a pitiful craythur and we should rise above her foolishness!"

"I can't wait to go home!" said Bella softly.

"And so we shall my loves" answered Esme. "I changed the tickets and we'll travel tomorrow. But for now, we're in London and we shall go out ourselves and have a good dinner and then go and see a show. We'll make the most of the day that God has given us and let the English look after themselves!"

Bella didn't hear the rest of Esme's plans. Once their imminent departure had been announced, all she could think of was home and Edward. In her mind, the two were synonymous. Edward truly was a part of her and she felt a desperate yearning to be close to his side. In Ireland.

London was an artificial mirage. She wanted to be where the wind blew fresh off the Atlantic, away from these smoggy streets; where people smiled at you and looked you clear in the eye, not sizing you up and down and judging your standing or what they could get out of you; where strong arms were waiting for her and would hold her close and a deep, Irish voice would whisper the profession of love "gra mo chroi thu" in her ear. Edward. Home.

 **Thank you all for your WONDERFUL thoughts and reviews. I love that you are so engaged in our story. Your reviews are like the sound of love in Irish in my ear!**


	22. Christmas Preparations

Esme's departure from London was a show to behold. The family took their leave of Claridge's Hotel in a large Packard, followed by two more carrying their luggage. Esme had remained true to her word and every major shop in central London had benefitted from her presence.

Watching the porters bowed under the weight of the luggage, Kitty whispered "God love us, Dr Cullen's going to be beside himself when he sees this lot!"

"Not at all!" answered Alice calmly "sure this is nothing. You should have seen her coming back from Paris before my wedding to Jasper. Didn't she stop the traffic down the Boulevard Saint-Michel? I say they hadn't seen the like!"

The girls gazed at the mountain of luggage in awe. God alone knew why Esme felt that she had a need for so many hats but there you had it.

The journey home was a repetition of the outward voyage. Porters danced attendance, urchins came from nowhere to beg for coppers and, in the middle of the circus, Esme sailed along, totally unflappable.

The slow train finally drew into Dingle station. The voyage had been interminable. From the minute that they'd docked at Kingstown, Bella could focus on nothing else other than the thought that soon she would be reunited with Edward. The train had barely stopped moving when she leapt from her seat, gathering her things and cramming her hat onto her head.

"Slow down a chara" soothed Esme, gently "sure and you won't die if you brush your hair first! Don't you look as though you've been dragged through a hedge backwards? All that sighing and fidgeting has done you no good at all. The look of you, Edward will never let me take you away again and then where will I be?"

"Ah go Bella, she's only teasing" laughed Rose.

Glancing quickly in the mirror which was set into the wood panels of the carriage, Bella noticed to her horror that Esme was abaolutely right. She looked like a sheep after a long winter. It was too much

"Mary and all the saints preserve us! Sure he'll regret his choice. All those London girls with their rouge and nail polish and look at me!" she gasped.

"Well now didn't Edward spend five years in London with all those painted jezabels? And didn't he come home and choose a good Irish girl for a wife? All you need is a lick and polish" said Esme briskly, handing Bella a brush and a handkerchief. "Come on now girl, he's waiting!"

The train was steadily disgorging streams of passengers: shoppers returning from Tralee, laden with boxes and parcels containing precious Christmas gifts, men back from a week's work in the City, a few lost looking commercial travellers, their faces dropping as they surveyed the modest town for the first time and, surrounded by large crowds of joyous shouting children and silently weeping parents, young people back from America. The returnees were self conscious in their "yank" clothes; one young man was sporting a natty boater which he insisted was all the rage in Detroit but was not winning him many admirers in Dingle.

Finally, Bella stepped off the train, just as the engine sighed a final gasp of relief and filled the platform with a cloud of smoke and steam. As she stood, trying to squint through the mist, sharp wind cleared the air and there he was: Edward. After all the anticipation, Bella found herself rooted to the spot, gazing as the dream and the man merged into one being. Striding along the crowded platform towards her, Edward stopped abruptly a pace away. Reaching out a hand, he rested it gently on her arm. His eyes locked with hers and he looked deep into her with a fierce intensity.

"Praise be to God, you're more beautiful than in my dreams. Sure I've carried you in my heart since you left and now I'll keep you by my side forever. Bella, achushla."

Bella couldn't speak, transfixed by the passion which was burning in Edward's face. He leaned towards her. He wouldn't kiss her in public, surely! She was absolutely torn between the shocking desire to feel his lips and the fear of being the scandal of the Town. Seeing her expression, Edward smiled mischievously.

"Ah my darling girl. I would like nothing better than to taste the sweetness of your lips but for now, know that I love you. Your being away was like a part of me was missing and now I'm whole again."

The two lovers looked at each other until a sharp poke in Bella's arm brought her attention to Kitty.

"Yerra, when you've finished making a holy show of yourself, we'll be away home!" she scolded.

Edward smiled, moving away to join his father who was surveying the growing pile of luggage with a look of mixed bemusement and increasing mirth.

"My soul Esme, did you not leave anything for the poor English to buy?" and lowering his tone he added ""Heaven alone knows that they'll have need for it once they lose Ireland God willing!" Laughing together, the couple moved off down the platform.

Bella was in a haze of love. Kitty's comment had made her blush but she felt no shame. How could something which was so precious and so pure be a source of gossip? Linking arms with her cousin, she whispered.

"Glory be to God Kitty, I never thought to know happiness like this!" and with that she pulled her cousin along the platform. Home at last.

The next day found Bella and Kitty bustling around the cottage trying to catch up on Christmas preparations. They'd been out early gathering holly branches and greenery filled the small windows, the red berries creating a merry contrast with the grey day. A small space was left into which the candle to lead the Christ Child home would be placed on Christmas Eve. Bella hollowed out a couple of turnips in readiness and put them in the scullery. One less task to complete! The advent wreath had pride of place on the table and Kitty strung Christmas cards along the walls on long pieces of ribbon.

At last, everything was cleaned and decorated. Satisfied, the girls stepped back and looked at their handiwork contentedly. The little cottage was pristine and ready to welcome any neighbours who might drop by to pass the time.

"And now," announced Bella "the shopping"

"Ah Bella! Can we not sit down and have a drop of tea? I've a terribly thirst on me!"

"We can not. Sure we'll be lucky to get anything at this late stage and I'd die of shame if we'd nothing to offer the neighbours"

Sighing but with good grace, Kitty made a pantomime of dragging herself to the coatrack where her coat apparently weighed a tonne based on the time it took to put it on.

"Ah g'way with you! You big eejit!" laughed Bella, grabbing her basket and pushing her cousin out of the door. The two made their way down the main street and the basket gradually grew heavier as they added brack, tea, a bottle of whiskey, a big pat of creamy butter, packages of rashers, sausages and pudding and a big jar of sweets for the visiting children. At each shop, the proprietor would give the girls a small gift "for luck" and Kitty was complaining bitterly about the weight of the assorted products.

"Bella asthoreen, my arm is in tatters. I'll be lopsided forever!" she wailed.

Dodging between the horses and carts which were barrelling up and down the main street, the cousins stepped over the piles of manure which were an inevitable by-product. Kitty's woes increased as the wheels of one cart flew through a puddle, sending a shower of dirty water over the girls.

"Seamus Mac" she cried "I saw you! You and your half dead mare! Don't think I'll forgive that you auld devil!"

"Kitty" hissed Bella, pinching her cousin's arm "would you stop it? Behaving like an auld scald in the street!" Kitty looked unrepentant. Bella couldn't stay cross with her for long and the two made their way slowly back up the road, deep in conversation until a deep voice broke in on their discussion

"Now it isn't often that I see two such beautiful ladies alone and unescorted. Can I assist you?"

Startled, the cousins' heads snapped up simultaneously. There on the pavement and dressed in the uniform of the British army, was Colonel Markham-Caius. Bella was in a dilemma: to accept help would provide enough scandal to keep the Town warm throughout the winter but to decline a man from Dublin Castle? The consequences could be catastrophic. The man held absolute power and if he was willing to execute dying men, how would be handle public humiliation? Glancing quickly around, she noticed that the townspeople had stopped talking and were watching the drama unfolded with mixed looks of pity and disapproval.

"Colonel, what a delight to see you again!" Bella answered charmingly, desperately trying to marshal her thoughts. "We missed you at the Castle."

"If I'd know you were going to be called, Madam, I would have made it my business to be there" he replied with heavy gallantry.

"Colonel" came a man's voice from behind the cousins "how good to see you. I was just escorting my brother's betrothed and her cousin. So sorry ladies, I got caught by Mr Ryan and you know how he can talk!"

"Emmett!" breathed Bella. Thanks be to Mary and all the saints.

"Colonel, we would love to tarry with you but we must rejoin my family before dinner. You will excuse us? And of course we will expect to see you for dinner?"

"I am afraid not sir" replied the Colonel stiffly. "My presence is required in Dublin tomorrow and I must make haste." Nodding to the group, he made his way back down the street.

"My soul from the devil, Emmett, we're glad to see you this day!" said Kitty fervently.

Emmett watched the Colonel's progress down the road, noting that people drew away as he approached as though he were auld Nick himself. Nothing good could come of this man's presence and his conversation with the girls was a downright insult. What message was he trying to convey? Hiding his worry, he smiled gaily, took the basket from an unprotesting Kitty and the group made their way back to the cottage where Emmett was rewarded with the best tea the girls could provide.

The three were quickly joined by Jasper, Edward, Alice and Rose and an uproarious evening ensued with Kitty mimicking Bella's "rabbit caught in the headlights" reaction to the Colonel.

Through the laughter, the men looked at each other, each sharing the same worried thought: why had Dingle come to the Colonel's attention again and what would come next? There was no doubt that the conflict was escalating: the stories coming in from different parts of the country indicated that the rebels were leading the army and the Royal Irish Constabulary a merry dance.

The hope, unvoiced as yet, that the struggle may soon be over was growing in every breast. God willing, 1920 would be the year that would see Ireland's freedom. And, Edward added to himself, would see Bella joined to him before God and his family, never to leave. Smiling to himself, he watched her animated face as she recited one of the tales of the legendary warrior Cú Chulainn. She was a rare woman and Edward thanked God every day that He had given them each other as companions on life's road. Next Christmas, please God, he and Bella would be sitting at their own hearth. His heart leaped with joy and he smiled at his betrothed.

Tale over, Bella rose and, taking a long taper and holding it in the fire, she carried the flame to the advent wreath. Turning to Edward, she held out the taper. Refusing but putting his hand over hers, together they lit the four candles. Christmas was almost here!

 **Thank you ALL for your wonderful reviews! For everyone who is recommending our story, thank you and to the lovely ladies at Adifferentforest, you are such an encouragement! I am debating on updating for Christmas. No promises but God willing we'll be back soon!**


	23. Christmas in Dingle

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. Leaping out of bed and wrapping her shawl around her, Bella padded down the stairs to the kitchen where, at the sight of the kettle warming on the range, she realised that Kitty was already up and doing.

"Well now, it is a day for miracles!" she laughed to herself. As she helped herself to a mug from the big dresser, the door burst open, letting in a howl of freezing air quickly followed by Kitty and a bucket of turf.

"God bless you and welcome the Christ child!" Kitty sang as she kicked the door shut behind her. "Sure it's cold enough to freeze the blood out there! Pour us a cup of tea, Bella a stor, before my fingers drop off!"

"Ah go on now!" smiled Bella, passing over her own mug and reaching for another.

"Well me darlin' girl, this is it for us. Our last Christmas in the cottage" sighed Kitty, wrapping her hands around the mug gratefully. "This time next year ye'll be a married woman and I'll be away in Dublin, God willing. We'll both be in strange new places."

"Yerra Kiteen, would you stop now! Haven't we had many Christmases together in many different houses? And by the grace of God won't we have many more? Wasn't Jesus himself born away from home and in a strange place but surrounded by those who loved him? Thanks be to God for his birth. Sure haven't we learned from the Christmas story? The place is nothing; it's the people that count. We're blessed to have each other and aren't we only enriched by the new people in our lives?"

"We are of course" replied her cousin, stoutly.

"And" added Bella, glancing slyly at Kitty, "Maybe next year the elusive Mr John Griffin will play a role in our celebrations? Don't think I don't know about the letter you got for him! Isn't it, this very minute, in the pocket of your pinny?"

"It is." Kitty touched her apron pocket self consciously.

"And don't you read it every time you think I'm not looking?"

"Ah you auld cat! I do!" Kitty blushed.

"Well then, enough of the gloom! Would you look at the time? Come on, come on, we'll be late for mass!"

A quick glance at the clock confirmed Bella's words. The two cousins abandoned their tea and dashed to get dressed. Bella wriggled into the lavender suit that Rose had talked her into buying in London and Kitty re-appeared looking stunning in a dove grey dress which set off her light blonde hair to perfection.

"Well now, I'd say we scrub up well, Bella asthoreen!"

"We do indeed!"

The two girls hastened out of the cottage, pausing only to say a prayer in front of the picture of Bella's parents and to chase the cat out of the kitchen where she was clearly planning a raid on the milk jug.

Hurrying along the street, spurred on by the sound of the mass bell which had just started ringing, they joined the groups of people heading in the same direction. Calls of: "nollaig shona daoibh!" rang out as people wished each other Happy Christmas and were met with the return wishes of "Go mba hé duit!" Wishes for good health, 'slainte", generated the fervent desire that the wellwisher would live to see the same day again next year "Go mbeirimid beo ar an am seo arís!" Everywhere they looked, the cousins were met with smiles and barely controlled excitement. Everyone had new clothes, or at least re-trimmed bonnets and the air of festival was almost tangible. As they walked past the houses, the cousins caught wafts of the scent of roasting birds and Kitty's stomach growled with anticipation. Fasting before communion had never been so challenging!

Reaching the church, the cousins glanced at each other to check that nothing was out of place and walked through the large double doors. Genuflecting and blessing themselves, they made their way into an already full pew as people shuffled along with good natured mutterings. Kneeling in prayer, Bella offered thanks to God for sharing His son and for giving her such joy. She remembered her parents and Sean and prayed fiercely that they would be sharing this day with their Father in heaven. Blessing herself, she sat back in the hard, wooden pew.

A quick dig in her side from Kitty and a hissed "look!" drew Bella's attention to the Cullen family who were occupying an entire pew. As Bella looked, she caught Esme's eye. Beckoning to her, Esme made it clear that the two cousins should be sitting with their new family. A low ripple of murmuring spread through the church as the pair rose and joined the Cullens. Finding herself next to Alice, Bella smiled at her. In return, Alice squeezed her hand and whispered "Happy Christmas! You're one of us now, you'll never be alone." Feeling tears pricking her eyes, she smiled at Alice who sat back in the pew, revealing Edward, his face full of love, gazing at her. Overwhelmed, she felt that her heart would burst with joy. The Christmas after her parents had been killed had been bleak and now this year she had family, love and, above all, a man who would be her inspiration and support. Truly God had blessed her.

Bella's thoughts were interrupted by the congregation heaving itself to its feet, mass had started.

"Mammy, I love you dearly but if we don't get home to that goose, I'll not be responsible for my actions!" called Emmett. The family was gathered outside the church and Esme was busy charming all and sundry to the growing desperation of her son.

"Now boy, let your Mammy take her time. God knows there's no rush, today of all days. We should be sharing our happiness, not hiding away at home! And stop thinking of your belly of, so help me, there'll be nothing on your plate but a bit of dry bread!" Carlisle warned.

Chastened and pale at the thought of missing out on Maggie's goose, Emmett muttered an apology which was drowned out by the howls of laughter from his family. "He would as well" Rose told Bella. "Three years ago, Emmett sneaked into the kitchen and ate all the sausages before dinner. Daddy made him sit and watch us eat!"

"It was Edward's dog!" called Emmett.

"It was not! Wasn't she asleep at home at the time? And isn't she a thousand times better trained than you auld mutt, she'd never steal!" answered Edward.

The family burst into laughter again. Esme, attracted by the noise, came bustling over.

"Would you stop it now! Behaving like a pack of heathens on this holy day? You have my heart scalded!"

Sniggering, the family followed her down the street like a flotilla of boats behind a galleon.

"Slainte Doctor! Missis Doctor" called an elderly woman. Huddled deep into her shawl, pipe in the corner of her mouth and leaning on her stick, she was sitting outside her house on a bench. A younger woman holding a baby sat next to her.

"Go mbeirimid beo ar an am seo arís! God willing we'll keep our health and share the same greeting next year!" Producing a note out of his pocket, Carlisle pressed it on the protesting woman. "For the babby, please God that she grows as lovely and gentle as her Mammy and as fearless as her Granny!" The old woman cackled in appreciation, her face breaking into a thousand wrinkles and the pipe bobbing dangerously between her teeth.

"Yerra you've a tongue dipped in honey! Sure you could charm the birds from the trees!"

"Well now Mary Pat, if I don't get the family home, all the charm in the world won't answer to Maggie for a burned dinner! God stay with you and your family and bring them health." With a smile, Carlisle turned and the family set off.

"The blessings of Mary and Saint Brigid on you and yours this day!" called the quavering voice after them.

The family burst through the doors of the Big House to be met by a bright red Maggie.  
"Would you look at the time! Five more minutes and the bird would be ashes!"

"Ah go on there Maggie! Don't you say that every year? And isn't it as tender as an angel's kiss every time?" answered Carlisle, earning himself a flap with a cloth from a blushing Maggie.

The goose was amazing: plump, succulent and bursting with stuffing. The table groaned with dishes overflowing with potatoes, carrots and mounds of buttery peas interspersed with jugs of fragrant gravy. Emmett sighed in appreciation.

Blessing himself, Carlisle looked around the table.

"Thanks be to Thee oh Lord for the gift of Thy son. Bless all in this room and remember us, Thy servants who strive to do Thy will. We pray for the lonely, the lost and the suffering. Ease their pain and keep them in Thy arms. We remember those who have gone before us and rejoice that they are safe with Thee and our Holy Mother. Praise be to Thee now and evermore."

The family blessed themselves.

"And now" announced Carlisle, looking pointedly at his eldest son "let the feast begin!"

Later that day, the family were joined by Father Moran and present giving began. The drawing room was bursting with holly, green branches from the garden and, to Bella's mortification, a big bunch of mistletoe tied with a scarlet ribbon which hung over the door.

Esme had pre-warned the girls that the family only gave handmade gifts and Jasper was currently in raptures over the lumpy, badly knitted scarf with which Alice had presented him. The rest of the family was in hysterics as he tried valiantly to praise the workmanship whilst examining the item which was a disaster of dropped stitches and mis-matched wools. Seeing the look of love on his wife's face made the effort worthwhile and Jasper was rewarded with a kiss.

Shyly, Bella handed Edward his present. Looking at his love, he undid the paper, carefully smoothing it out to reveal a small book.

"I printed it myself" Bella was quick to explain.

Turning the volume over, Edward read the cover: "Songs and Stories of Ireland". Opening the book, a wide smile spread across his face, Edward flicked through the pages and read out the titles.

"The Wearing of the Green… The Harp that once Through Tara's Halls…. Boolavogue… Padraig Pearse's Eulogy…. A rebel's primer! You are a wonderful woman altogether!"

Standing and crossing the room in a few strides. Edward held out his hand to Bella and raised her to her feet.

"I claim my second present!" he said softly, and leading her to the doorway, he stood under the mistletoe where he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her gently. "Acuschla, this year and every year for the rest of my life, I vow to love you and honour you. You are the beat of my heart, a gra mo chroi." Releasing her from his arms, he looked down at his bride to be as she blushed in confusion.

Turning to his family, Edward pulled Bella towards him.

"We are blessed on this day and blessed to have each other. I see your happiness and thank God that he has seen fit to bring me this amazing woman. Praise be to Him and welcome to the Christ child!"

"Ah child" called Esme "we were blessed the day that Bella came to Dingle. I'm proud I raised such fine sons."

"And sure we'll be even more blessed the day the English leave!" called Jasper from the other side of the room.

Carlisle stood, glass in hand.

"To family, to God and to Ireland! Slainte!"

"Slainte!" replied the company, drinking deeply.

"And to you, acuschla" whispered Edward in Bella's ear. "Two months and we'll be wed"

Bella felt a thrill of excitement. Looking up at Edward, she said softly "I can't wait."

 **Happy Christmas everyone! May you and your families be happy and blessed.**


	24. The Wren Boys

Bella woke in the Cullen's guestroom as unfamiliar household sounds sounded from a distant part of the house. In the dim light, she could make out the dim shape of Kitty, hidden under the thick eiderdown. Knowing that there was no point trying to rouse her cousin, she dressed in the half light and made her way downstairs.

The family was still slumbering although Maggie was busy ordering a battalion of maids who were frantically cleaning grates, polishing furniture and generally preparing for the day ahead. Seeing that everyone was occupied, Bella lifted the latch on the back door and let herself out. The sky was flashed with streaks of salmon, crimson and orange interspersed with slate gray wisps of clouds. The good weather was clearly about to vanish; Local farmers swore that a red sky in the morning would bring rain before dinner. Bella inhaled the crisp mountain air and gazed out at the lawn. The air was chill and each blade of grass looked as though it had been dipped in powdery sugar.

"God be praised, a day straight from Heaven!" said a deep voice from behind her. Bella whirled around to see Edward, fully dressed and clearly preparing for a morning walk. He was wearing a battered tweed hat and carrying a jacket. Bertie, his terrier, was weaving excitedly in and out of his legs.

"You'll walk with me a stor?"

"I will of course" she answered stoutly. It was early so there would be few witnesses to start gossiping and surely a mountain walk with her betrothed was acceptable? As if reading her thoughts, Edward looked at her seriously.

"You trust me?"

"I do of course! Sure am I not marrying you in a month please God?"

Edward laughed. "Well now, if you aren't, we'll be having words! But know this, your name and your honour are precious to me and God forbid that you be the subject of any talk. We'll take the old bog road and we'll be back before anyone knows we've gone!"

Taking her arm, Edward led her out over the garden. The crisp grass crunched under their feet. Walking in companionable silence, the pair headed out towards the Connor Pass road. The day was lightening as they walked and the distant bleating of sheep echoed amongst the hills.

"Bella a gra," started Edward. "I want to talk to you seriously about our future."

Bella halted, fear spreading through her being. With the excitement of Christmas, all thoughts of the struggle for freedom and the Colonel's visit had been temporarily forgotten and the knowledge that Edward was courting danger on a daily basis came rushing back.

"Ah sure don't look so nervous my darling girl! We'll have no time alone until after the wedding and I want to ask you for your feelings on a particular matter, when no one is around."

"Go on, so" answered Bella.

"We'll be married soon. I want you for myself, I can't lie. But Kitty is always welcome in our home and if you want her to live with us, I'll welcome her too."

Bella breathed a sigh of relief. Was this it?

"You darling man. God love you for your kindness but don't you be worrying about Kit now, she'll be away to Dublin after the wedding." Bella explained Kitty's plans to join the rebels in the capital and Edward's face mirrored her own mixed sentiments of terror and admiration.

"She's a great girl altogether and there's no stopping her. She'll be a great help up there. I'll miss her cruelly but…" she lowered her head and blushed "I'd say we'll have enough to think about here!"

Edward smiled and nodded, looking at his betrothed and imagining the joy they would experience as they started their life together. The couple walked on in silence. Reaching the brow of the hill, Edward laid his coat down on a rock and Bella sat. The mountain lakes shone like jewels in the morning sun and the distant sea was pearlescent. Bella sighed with perfect happiness. Edward rested is hand on her shoulder as they both looked out towards Brandon Bay.

"You know that I will always be by your side" he said.

"I do"

"I love you. When I rise in the morning, you are the first thing in my mind, and when I sleep at night, your face is the last thing I see. You are the centre of my world." Turning her to face him, he added fiercely "Whatever comes, that will never change." He searched her face with his eyes and she replied:

"As are you for me. We are bound and tied. And every day I thank God that we have found each other."

"As do I" raising her quietly, he wrapped her in his arms. Looking down at her, he asked her silently for her permission. Wordlessly, she raised her face to his. Here, alone on the mountains, with Dingle Bay shining on one side and Brandon Bay luminous on the other, they were together.

"I love you. We are one." Whispered Edward, his face blazing with love.

"We are. Blessed was the day when we met" replied Bella.

The pair stood together as the sky lightened and the day became bright, the morning mists burning away.

"We'd better be away" said Edward softly, unwilling to break the mood. Bella shook herself and together the pair headed off home. Arm in arm, neither had ever felt such closeness to another individual. Every now and again, Edward would bend and kiss Bella's hair, muttering endearments.

Unnoticed, the pair slipped in through the backdoor to find the house in uproar. It was St Stephen' s Day, the day after Christmas and the local boys would be round begging for pennies to go hunting small birds called wrens. God alone knew what they would do if they actually found a wren but the tradition was set and woe betides the household which didn't share a piece of bread or a copper coin for the wren boys. The least of their worries would be grease smeared on their windows and many a farmer had spent St Stephen's day chasing his released livestock around the town.

"Maggie! Where are the coppers?" called Esme, "the wren boys will be here for sure and we've nothing to give them!"

"Yerra would you calm yourself missis!" called Maggie "sure wouldn't a good feed see for the lot of them?"

As Maggie answered Esme, the deep pounding of the knocker sounded throughout the house. Throwing open the doors, Carlisle stood on the threshold with his family gathering around. On the doorstep, a crowd of twenty or so boys was gathered. Draped in strands of straw and an assortment of rags, they held long sticks crowned with straw birds.

"Penny for the wren boys?" they called. A small figure at the back of the crowd was banking on a pan with a wooden spoon and the din was horrendous.

Laughing, Carlisle turned to his wife who held a tray of buttered current brack.

"Well lads, you'll have something to eat too? A penny won't feed you, sure!" she smiled.

The boys fell on the tray, eating as though they had been half starved. Looking at their bare feet, it crossed Bella's mind that they wouldn't have eaten well for a while. Grasping their pennies and shouting as they went, the gaggle of boys left for the next household. It would be a busy day for the wren boys!

The family closed the door and wandered in to breakfast where puddings, sausages and rashers awaited. Falling on the food, Jasper observed his brother.

'You've a rare appetite this morning!"

"I have" agreed Edward. Glancing at Bella, he continued "Isn't a breath of mountain air in the morning a great thing altogether?"

Smiling to herself, Bella helped herself to another piece of toast. Christmas and St Stephen's day would never be the same again. Glancing shyly at Edward under her eyelashes she caught his gaze. "I love you" he mouthed to her. The day was perfect.

 **Short update so you know more about our traditions! I hope that you have had a wonderful Christmas!**


	25. The Ceilidh

It was the last day of the year and the metallic thump of the big Heidelberg press competed with the rattle of carts in the road outside. Dingle was waking up after the excesses of Christmas and, below in the town, the livestock auction was in full swing. The half door of the printer's shop was open, allowing in the occasional gust of wind but letting out the stomach churning fumes from the glue Kitty was using to paste end papers in a growing stack of books. The cousins had fallen into their usual routine with Bella handling the temperamental press and Kitty cutting and binding the pages as soon as they were judged to be dry. The din of the machinery fortunately drowned out her singing: Kitty had many gifts but, as her cousin was fond of pointing out, music wasn't one of them!

Eventually, the run was finished and Bella lifted the handle to press the last page.

"Well now Kitty a stor, that's us done!" she sighed, releasing the paper from its setting and transferring it gingerly to the drying rack. The print was crisp on the page and she smiled contentedly. She took off her brown Holland pinafore and hung it on a hook before peeling off the long sleeves she wore to cover her dress. He clothes were immaculate but, as always, her hands were blue with ink and she had managed to transfer a large streak to one of her cheeks.

"Have you given any thought to what you'll do when I go?" Kitty asked worriedly, watching her cousin scrubbing at her hands in the sink with a large block of green carbolic soap they kept for the purpose. When they'd re-opened the press after Bella's parents' death, the work had been a real struggle and there were many days when the cousins would happily have closed the door and walked away but the thought of maintaining the family legacy had kept them going. Now Bella loved working with the finicky lead type and ink ran though her blood. What would she do when Kitty left and she was married? Surely Edward wouldn't want his wife working! Yet again though, Bella surprised her cousin:

"I have it all planned… well it's maybe not all my idea but it's grand! Rose and Alice are going to join me. We'll have a new family business. We've even got ideas for a new range of ballad sheets to go with John McCormack's latest recordings."

Kitty looked at her cousin in amazement. The famous Irish tenor was a big star over in America so that part of the story made sense but the Cullen wives working…! The town would have a field day!

"Ah now Kit, stop gawping! Sure you look like you've been slapped with a wet fish! Isn't it a great idea altogether? And all Mrs Cullen's doing, she had the whole scheme mapped out! Rose is a beautiful artist, she'll illustrate and Alice will help with the typesetting. We'll take on Sean Og's eldest as an apprentice after school. "

Ah… now the plan made sense. Kitty smiled to herself as she imagined either Jasper or Emmett standing up to their Mammy! And the press would be in good hands.

"God was smiling on us when He brought the Cullens into our life!"

"He was indeed Kit asthoreen, and thanks to Him and his Blessed Mother" replied Bella, blessing herself.

Fixing the lid on the large pot of glue, Kitty stood and stretched. Glancing casually at the clock which hung under the cross of Saint Brigid which Bella had made from rushes last year, she started and swung into action. It was gone four o'clock! The pair had been so focused on printing that they hadn't noticed the light fading. Less than two hours to be home, changed and get to the Big House for the final gathering of the year.

"Ah no! Would you look at the time? We'll be late for dinner! Come on there now!"

The pair grabbed their hats and hurried out of the printers, pulling the door closed behind them. Dusk was setting in and the gas lights were being lit. The streets were empty as shops had closed up early and the tapping of the cousins' boots and the occasional rattle of a late returning cart punctuated the silence. Glancing into lit windows, they could see families gathering around tables, faces warm in the candlelight. Reaching their cottage, they burst in through the door and dashed upstairs to dress.

"Will you wear the cream dress, a chara?" called Bella from her room.

"I will, and you the lavender? Will you do me up when you're done? This dress is a devil for buttons."

"For sure!" called Bella, dragging a hairbrush through her tangled hair and simultaneously groping around her dressing table for her mother's earrings. Abandoning the brush, she held up the delicate gold filigree bobs, remembering how as a young girl, she had sat on the bed watching as her mother dressed for parties.

"I wish you were here Mammy," she whispered "I'd want for you to love Edward as much as I do. I know you're looking down on us and God grant that one day we'll all be together again. I miss you."

Hooking the earrings into her ears, Bella shook herself. "Now isn't the time to be moping!" she said sternly to her reflection, wagging a finger at the mirror. Smiling at her own foolishness, her wistful prayers over, she gave her hair a final pat with her brush and took the stairs two at a time in her haste to be off. The departure was delayed by Kitty's dress and an attempted escape by the cat but eventually the two cousins were crunching up the gravel driveway which lead to the Big House, lanterns in hand.

Light streamed from every window of the house and the big double doors were flung open. Bella's heart leaped as she recognized Edward's broad shouldered silhouette in the doorway. Leaving the house, he strode down the steps and along the path to meet them.

"God's greeting ladies!" he called as he approached. Coming closer to the house, the girls were illuminated in the light of their lantern and that of the large chandelier in the hall.

"By the grace of God, I didn't think you could look any lovelier Bella a gra, and yet here you are!" He looked down at Bella and stroked her cheek gently with his finger. The lantern trembled in her hand, sending the shadows dancing.

Kitty cleared her throat, the raw emotion in Edward's voice was incredible and the two lovers were transfixed, locked into a world of their own. Sure they'd never get inside at this rate and the damp was setting in! Shuffling her boots in the gravel, she laughed:

"And what am I? An auld turnip?!"

Turning to her cousin, Bella kissed her on the cheek "more like a swede asthoreen!" The pair laughed and followed Edward into the house where Maggie took their coats and led them to where the family was assembled in the drawing room, glasses in hand.

"The Blessings of Saint Brigid on you girls" called Esme from the corner where she was handing a glass to Father Moran. "You'll have a glass of sherry and then we'll eat! And after that… well, I hope that you're ready for a bit of dancing? The boys are coming up from the town and we'll have ourselves a bit of a ceilidh. There's nothing like a few set dances to end the year on a high note!"

Dancing! This was unexpected. Bella looked at Edward under her eyelashes, the thought of being held in his strong arms and whirled around the floor made her thrill with anticipation. She couldn't wait to get through dinner. As though he read her thoughts, Edward looked across the room at his betrothed. Pretending to be listening to Jasper's detailed explanation of a case he had just been defending at the Four Courts in Dublin, he admired the way that Bella's eyes lit up at the mention of the ceilidh and wondered what her face would look like when she was alive with the dance.

"And so we pelted the judge with rotten spuds and all adjourned to the pub for a hooley!" finished Jasper, aware that his brother was no longer listening and identifying correctly the source of his distraction.

"Grand, so" answered Edward to Jasper's intense amusement. He was delighted that his brother had found a companion who would provide the love and support that Jasper had found in Alice but his joy didn't stop him poking fun at Edward.

"You are lost boysie!" he crowed. "Sure haven't I been spouting nonsense these last five minutes and you lapping it up like an auld cat with milk?"

"Lost? Not at all!" answered Edward thoughtfully. "For the first time in years, I think I have found my place in the world. And now it's been a long time since any word of sense came from your mouth buddy boy! I'd sooner listen to Flanagan's goat!" He stepped nimbly out of the way as Jasper's arm swung around in an attempt to grab him in a headlock.

"You're not too grand to give you a beating boysie!" he threatened, advancing on Edward with a menacing expression. "Commander by God! In here you're just the annoying brat you always were!"

"Boys! Sure anyone would think that you were raised in a barn! Would you stop behaving like a couple of yahoos and have some respect for the company!" Esme called from across the room.

"Sorry Mammy" the two muttered, Edward pulling Jasper in and hugging him tightly. "Brat!" Jasper hissed in his ear "Goat!" returned his brother. Both burst out laughing and hugged each other as Bella stared fascinated to discover yet another facet to Edward's personality. Seeing peace resumed, Esme rose and lead the family into dinner.

Seated around the long table, Carlisle surveyed his family.

"Truly God has blessed us this year. We give thanks Lord for Thy goodness and ask for your love and peace to be ever present in this home. We pray to Saint Brigid and Saint Patrick to watch over your people wherever they may be. Keep them safe and, if it be the will of God, bring them all home to Ireland. For those we have lost, we pray that they are at home with you in your Kingdom and we live in hope that one day we will be together with You and the Blessed Mother. We ask for your mercy and goodness for all people for the year to come. " Blessing himself, Carlisle gazed down the table at his wife.

"A good year, Mammy. And pray God next year will be even better."

"It will of course! Aren't we starting with a wedding? And sure isn't my heart overflowing at gaining another daughter?"

Bella met Edward's eyes, overwhelmed by the pure love shining out. She blushed, ducking her head down and studying her plate in apparent fascination. Seeing her discomfort, Edward started a conversation about the latest scandal in the town which concerned a dispute over whether Mrs Donovan could lay rightful claim on the eggs laid in her garden by Mrs Quilter's escaped hens. The two women were at each other's throats.

"Sure the pair of them make the rebellion look like a nursery squabble. We should recruit them immediately!" To general laughter, the conversation moved on to other topics and the chatter rose as course after course was served and eaten. Finally, Esme rose and led the ladies out with a stern warning to her husband and sons:

"Tarry long, Carlisle, and I'll be back in to pull ye out! I can hear the musicians arriving!"

Taking the threat seriously, the doors to the dining room were only closed for five minutes before the men wandered out. Linking his wife's arm, Carlisle led her into the ballroom. Bella had never been in the room before and gasped at the sheer size of the dancefloor. In the corner, she recognized a few men from the Town who were tuning up fiddles and accordions. The bodhran player was drumming his stick on the goatskin of his and held drum and a few of the neighbours were starting to arrive.

"Welcome!" called Carlisle "Blessings of the Holy Mother to you all and let's welcome in the new year! How about we start with the Kerry Polka?"

Moving over to Bella, Edward held out his hand "You'll join me on the floor a gra?"

"I will" she answered, eyes bright with excitement. The Kerry Polka was fast and furious and was her absolute favourite. The sound of feet stamping on the floor as couples swung each other around was exhilarating. And to dance it with Edward!

The pair joined the three couple in the centre of the room and the musicians burst into the music. Faster and faster, the couples circled, stamping feet and letting out wild whoops. Bella's hair collapsed and flew out behind her as she whirled around in Edward's arms. Eventually the dance finished and the pair held each other, panting with exertion and grinning delightedly.

Edward reached out and lifted one of Bella's long locks. "You are the most enchanting creature I have ever seen" he said in a low voice. "This year has been the happiest of my life but it will be nothing compared to the joy I'll feel when we become one in the eyes of God, acushla."

Looking up at Edward, Bella replied in the same low tones, "I never thought that I'd know such happiness. After my parents died, may they rest in peace, I was in darkness. You've brought such life and love into my world. Praise be to God who gave me you!"

Alone in the middle of the room, the pair were unaware of the joyous faces watching them. Their love shone out and the utter devotion between them was almost tangible.

"God is good" Esme whispered to Carlisle as she smiled over at the pair. Stroking his wife's arm and looking at his son, Carlisle nodded. "We should never doubt but that he has a plan for all of us. And my plan for you my love, is to hold you close." Nodding to the band, Carlisle led his wife into a waltz. Even with three grown sons, their love and respect for each other shone like a beacon.

The couples circled around the floor, Edward holding Bella as close as he dared. He could feel the warmth of her body and the sweetness of her breath on his neck. It was all he could do to hold himself back from kissing her there and then. Bringing his head to her ear, he whispered to his betrothed:

"A gra mo chroi, you are the beat of my heart. Every night, I go to bed thinking that I am one day closer to our wedding."

"As do I" she replied "being in your arms is like coming home."

Sighing with love Edward pulled Bella closely and, under cover of the waltzing couples, kissed he quickly on the forehead.

"This year will be the best of my life." And with that, he swept his love into the dance, knowing that, whatever happened, they would always have each other. God was good.

 **Happy New Year Everyone! Thank you all for your kind words. I wish you and yours a happy, peaceful and joyous New Year.**


	26. An Apology and Explanation!

Sorry everyone: I managed to contract pneumonia but have recovered and will be back writing very soon, I promise! After all, we have a wedding to look forward to and the British to hoodwink!


	27. The Arrival of the Black and Tans

The snow white satin pooled on the floor, cascading from Bella's body like a waterfall. The fabric's shimmering surface reflected the light as a tiny woman in black crawled around, lifting and dropping handfuls, all the while muttering through a mouth full of pins. Trying and failing to catch the moving folds, she painful straightened up from her crouch and, voice muffled through clenched teeth hissed:

"Yerra girl, it's walking down the aisle in a flour bag you'll be if you don't stop wriggling! 'Tis like trying to pin a dress on an auld sheep!"

"Sorry Mrs O'Brien" said Bella unrepentantly. Jesus, Mary and Joseph but this was dull! Her initial delight at being draped in luxurious satin had quickly diminished once she realised what was actually involved in making the dress itself: Standing on a dais for hour after hour as the old woman pinned and tucked and lifted and generally turned her into a shop dummy. She was shaken from her thoughts by a musical laugh coming from the sofa where Esme was surveying the proceedings over the top of the latest copy of Tatler.

'Ah Agnes, stop now' she called 'She's no worse than I was. Isn't it hard to stand so still when you've the fire of youth in your bones?'

'It is now of course, girl. And I remember saying the self-same thing to you. And sure wouldn't we be still here today only that your Mammy, may God grant her eternal rest, threatened to tie you to a broom to stop you wriggling?' responding the old woman tartly. Smiling to herself, Esme retreated behind her paper and Bella forced herself to assume the state of stillness which the elderly dressmaker demanded.

'If only weddings were simple!' Bella mused to herself. As a young girl, when she had dared herself to think of her wedding day, her imagination had stopped at the dress and the feeling of her daddy's arm as he walked her towards her destiny. She smiled wistfully to herself, remembering how Carlisle had taken her to one side the day after their wedding date had been set.

'Bella a chara' he'd started, his grey eyes soft and serious, 'you are my daughter and I promise now to love and protect you as one of my own. Your darling Daddy, may he rest in eternal peace, would have been the proudest man in the county today. I was honoured to call him my friend as I am blessed to be able to call you my daughter. If you'll accept, I will stand for him at the wedding and walk you to your future."

She had not needed words to answer and Esme had found her clinging to Carlisle, tears soaking his tweed jacket as she tried to put words to the sorrow she felt for her parents' loss and the love she cherished for her new family. God had truly blessed her, praise and glory to him and his Blessed Mother.

At no point in her dreams had Bella imagined a wedding breakfast for the whole county and the need to have six separate outfits for the various celebrations including a new travelling outfit which would be worn for all of the ten minutes it would take for the newly-wed couple to be driven from the Big House to Edward's town house. Six!

The wedding circus which had swung into action the minute that the New Year's festivities were over was a thing to behold. Big wooden crates arrived at the house on a daily basis. Pat Mike, the reluctant railway porter had been complaining loudly that 'his back was broke with it!'

The grand ballroom had been turned into a repository for presents: trembling mountains of opened crates were stacked in the corner and drifts of packing straw floated across the shining parquet floor every time the door was opened. The presents were incredible! Delicate bone china, all bearing the Cullen crest, enough heavy lead crystal to stock a department store and piles of silver were all displayed on long trestle tables. Bella smiled to herself as she recalled some of the more unusual gifts.

'Mother of God would you look at this?' Kitty had called, brandishing what appeared to be a spiky silver torture device.

'Let me guess… from James Fitzroy?' asked Esme, coming to examine the artifact. 'The cheap auld goat. This thing belonged to his aunt and I know for a fact that she had it made on purpose. It was the only thing she left it to him in her will out of spite after she had to pay off his gaming debts one too many times.'

'But what is it?'

'It's a combination ink stand and letter opener. The pointy thing is the knife, see? And when you open the little lid, an ink pot pops out. Very useful if you want to end up bleeding and covered in ink stains. It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen in my life and I spent time in London…" she paused, examining the hall marks with an expert eye and laughing with glee 'She was a clever woman, the aunt. This isn't even worth melting down for the metal, the wretched thing is made of plate not solid silver. You'll have to use your imagination for the thank you letter, girl!'

The presents were only a miniscule part of the preparations. Esme had battalions of workers cleaning, painting and sweeping. She had brushed away Carlisle's mild protests that no one would be interested in seeing whether the barns were clean with a dark threat that if he, or any of his sons, prevented her from making the house look respectable for the wedding, they would find themselves sleeping in the self-same newly-painted outhouses for a very long time.

In the middle of all the chaos, Edward was serene. 'Bella a stor, the only thing I care about is that we are joined as man and wife in the presence of God. The rest of it is just folderol!' he'd replied to her panicked musings. The deeper truth, which he was desperate to conceal from his beloved girl, was that the situation in Ireland was worsening dramatically and it was all he could do to maintain a civilised veneer.

The brothers had been sitting in a Tralee hotel the first time it had happened: An open sided army truck, painted in a dull khaki had squealed to a halt just after lunch time in Denny Street. It was the busiest time of the day and shoppers were packing the pavements in the main street, forcing groups of men to walk on the road, picking their way in between horse droppings and barrows selling all manner of items. Almost as if time was frozen, people stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the halted vehicle. The back gate of the truck burst open with a sharp 'click' and suddenly, incredibly, twenty men, all brandishing machine guns leaped out and pointed their guns directly at the stunned crowd.

'Get on the ground you Fenian scum!' a harsh cockney voice bellowed as the soldiers used their guns to prod and push the men nearest to them. As one, the shoppers had followed orders, collapsing on the ground, and not a minute too soon as the soldiers fired volley after volley over their heads. The deathly silence that followed was punctuated only by the panicked wails of a baby as the shoppers lay face down on the muddy cobbles.

'There'll be no more easy treatment of you lot,' the voice sneered. 'We're here now and you'll know who's in charge soon enough!'

As one, the men had leaped back into the truck like a pack of well-trained dogs, leaving the stunned and terrified shoppers to pick themselves up, cast shamed glances at each other and silently disperse.

Watching in horror from the bay windows of the hotel, Edward had shaken away the anger rising inside him and noted the new uniforms; a mismatch of khaki and black. These weren't normal soldiers and they certainly weren't in the familiar green of the Royal Irish Constabulary. The thugs he had just witnessed must be the men he had received warnings about; the Black and Tans. Recruited from the toughs of the British Army via a newspaper advert, the rabble of brutal soldiers had been named for the colour of their uniforms. Any charm of the nickname was deceptive: the newcomers were quickly gathering a reputation for utter ruthlessness. Stories were starting to filter down to Kerry about random beatings, brutal arrests and execution without trial. Edward had heard that the Black and Tans were barely under English control. As judge, jury and executioner, they were spreading terror throughout the country.

'Holy Mother of God' hissed Emmett 'so they've come.'

Edward nodded soberly.

'This is it boys' he said quietly. 'The war has come to us. Time to respond.'

Jasper glanced quickly at his brother's set jaw and briefly patted his arm.

'Sure didn't we know it would always be here one day?' he asked, looking around the room as his did so, eyes full of sadness. 'We have no choice, we can't stand back and watch.'

'Well now, was that every an option? Weren't we born for this day?' demanded Emmett.

'We're ready,' returned Edward slowly, weighing each word as he spoke. 'God forbid we let those soulless devils bring their chaos and carnage to Kerry. There'll be bad times ahead but now haven't we been living as slaves for long enough? We need to get back and bring the lads together. I won't have any man feeling that he has no choice. They've come to us and sure don't we know our battleground like the backs of our hands? The English will regret the day they chose to come to the West!'

Raising their glasses as one, the brothers made the toast; 'Do cum gloire Dé agus onora na hEireann' (Glory to God and honour to Ireland)

Edward sighed to himself. He had never known such joy, such certitude that Bella would be everything he had ever dreamed of in a life partner yet at the same time, the weight of his responsibilities lay heavy on his shoulders. He wished time would move faster so Bella would finally be his, knowing that every day also brought him closer to the fight. Silently, he ran over the plans he and Carlisle had developed, double checking every detail. They would win; they had to.

And so it had begun.

 **Thank you all so much for your patience and good wishes. Thanks be to God I am back on form and I promise regular updates!**


	28. St Brendan's Pilgrimage

"By the Blessed Mother, why do we do this every single time?" groaned Kitty as the two cousins dashed around the house collecting gloves, bags and coats. The cat watched the chaos impassively from the depths of the forbidden armchair, safe in the knowledge that her trespassing would go unnoticed.

"Because you insist on waiting until the last minute to get ready and then lose half your possessions!" replied Bella, fastening her coat and watching Kitty who was attempting to put on her boots and jacket simultaneously and failing in both. Taking the jacket from her cousin, she untangled the sleeves and held it out. The rich green velvet seemed to glow in the dancing light of the turf fire before Kitty covered it with her heavy tweed coat.

'There now Bella asthoreen, we're as ready as we will be! Tell me, what flavour of lunatic goes on a pilgrimage half way up a mountain at this time of the year?'

'A lunatic who wants to make her cousin happy? God knows Ireland needs all the help we can get. Sure isn't a short walk little enough to ask?'

'It is, of course' replied Kitty immediately, her face sombre.

The news from the surrounding counties was dark. The Black and Tans had been joined by an especially vicious unit of the British Army known as the "Auxiliaries". Organised, efficient and totally lacking in mercy, the two groups were causing mayhem up and down the country. Small towns lived in fear of drunken troops rampaging through the streets, doling out random punishments to anyone who stood in their way.

The Irish weren't sitting back though, not this time. Michael Collin's strategy of guerrilla warfare was paying off and the British were frustrated by ambushes, raids and random attacks by armed patriots who appeared from nowhere, attacked, and swiftly melted back into the landscape. Edward had been busy and the soldiers found that the roads into Dingle were mysteriously blocked, supplies to the barracks went missing on a regular basis and the locals were apparently blind to everything going on around them. The cache of looted weapons safely hidden in the old famine village was growing by the week and, as Jasper liked to remind the lads 'sure, we've enough firepower to hold off a regiment!'

Listening to horror stories from Cork City where entire streets had been burned to the ground by the Tans and fearing reprisals, Edward had ordered his men to hold back on direct action but it was a watching game and only a matter of time before all hell would break loose.

In the midst of the tension, wedding plans carried on, the house was finally ready and Esme, in her wisdom, had decided that a pilgrimage up Mount Brandon to ask for the help of Saint Brendan was a necessary step. The Saint had spent forty days praying on the mountain before setting out on an epic seven year journey to the New World in a frail craft.

'Sure and didn't Saint Brendan and his monks sail all the way to Newfoundland in a tiny boat? There's nothing the English can teach us about fortitude! And aren't we blessed to have so many good friends across the Atlantic supporting us? We'll go up the mountain, give thanks, and pray to the Blessed Mother for her protection." She had announced amidst groans from her sons.

'Ah Mammy, not again! Do you not remember last time when we got caught in the midst? It's only thanks to Edward that we managed to get down again. But for his sense of direction, we'd be there still." Emmett had called across the room, earning himself an exasperated look from his mother.

'Well now, in my memory we got lost because someone thought they knew a short cut.' She replied slowly, looking intently at her eldest son who wilted under her steely gaze 'and the next time they have an idea which involves dragging the entire family along a goat track, they'd be wise to hold their whist!' Emmet had subsided back into his chair, muttering about not being the only one to blame as Edward and Jasper sniggered gleefully at his discomfort. Esme had rounded on them:

'And you pair of jackeens, don't think I've forgotten who dropped my good picnic hamper in the bog. Three weeks it took to dry it off and it has never been the same since. A terrible shower you are! Thanks be to God you had the brains to marry sensible girls or I'd be despairing every time you left the house!'

Suitably chastened, the three brothers had agreed to Esme's plans and the family was assembled in front of the house as Kitty and Bella approached.

Bella automatically searched the group for Edward, sighing softly as he strode towards her. As always, the world vanished as she looked up at him, searching his face and noting the tired lines around his eyes. She knew that he was out every night and was always in the surgery by nine in the morning. Her heart swelled with pride every time she thought of his courage. In her most secret thoughts, she had dreamed of a man like this; brave, selfless, a patriot. And here he was. Hers. She was blessed. Reaching out a timid hand, she touched Edward's face, tracing the contours of his jaw as he gazed down at her, eyes soft with love. The two stood together, in a world of their own as the family bustled around them.

'Edward, Edward, Edward Og! Wake up boy!' Esme's voice intruded into the lovers' private moment. 'Come on boy, mooning about! There'll be plenty of time for that later, God willing, but come on now or we'll never get up the mountain.'

Dragging himself back to reality, Edward stroked Bella tenderly on the arms and released her with a smile.

'Two weeks a chara and we'll be wed. And then it'll take more than my Mammy to keep me from you!' Ducking her head bashfully, Bella became suddenly fascinated by her boots as Alice and Rosalie smiled at her.

'Ah Bella asthor, don't be shy now' smiled Rosalie. 'We thank God and his Blessed Mother every day to see Edward so happy. You've given him new life.'

'Sure and don't we need all the happiness we can get?' added Alice 'with you, Edward is twice the man. Come on mauverneen, let's get up the mountain before Mammy explodes!'

Laughing, the three linked arms and followed Esme's rapidly vanishing back up the mountain. As they got further up the stony path, gravel crunching under their boots, the mist started swirling around, muffling the chants of Esme's prayers and softening the rocky landscape. The pilgrims' path led up the gentle lower slopes of Mount Brandon, marked out by whitewashed stones. Despite the damp chill of the mist, the girls were glowing with the effort as they finally reached a small plateau. Miraculously, the sun slid from behind the clouds, sending dazzling shafts of light over the valleys below and making the distant lakes sparkle.

'God is close' Bella exclaimed. Kneeling, she prayed fervently for the people of Ireland; bring them success in the struggles to come! Remembering her parents, she gave thanks for their love and prayed that they would be safe in the arms of the Lord. Shyly, her prayers turned to Edward. God protect him and keep him safe. Searching him out in the group, she saw him looking at her and drew strength from his presence.

Sitting on a rock after prayers, Emmett discussed his upcoming fund raising mission to America with his brothers. 'Would you imagine St Brendan going all that way to Newfoundland in a small rowing boat? Sure it's bad enough going in a liner once the waves pick up.'

'They're a great support the Americans' Jasper interjected 'without them, we'd be facing the Brits with pitchforks!'

'And Rosalie's going with you' added Edward 'so the clubs of New York will have to survive without the mighty Emmett Cullen this time!'

Emmett smiled slyly 'Jaysus boysie, do you know nothing? Rosalie: in one of those American dresses and on a dance floor without Mammy to watch? I can't wait! You've a lot to learn!'

Laughing at his brothers' stunned expressions, Emmett hoisted himself up and sauntered over to his wife, whispering evilly in her ear and making her blush. Looking over at her son, Esme saw past the bluster to the pure soul beneath, thanks be to God that he'd found Rosalie, truly a perfect match for her wild boy!

As the sun shone down on the family, Carlisle raised his voice.

'Children. Join me. We pray to St Brendan and St Patrick that they watch over us, their people. We pray for all the sons and daughters of Ireland, wherever they may be. Keep them safe and bring them home to this, our land.'

'And please tell the English that they have a perfectly good country of their own which they are very welcome to return to!' called Emmett.

Laughing, the family turned to follow the trail back down the mountain. Sensing Edward's presence behind her, Bella slowed her steps until the two were walking side by side. Her hand crept automatically into his, feeling the rough skin on his palms from carrying his shotgun.

'Bella a chara' he said in a low voice 'here in this holy place, I pledge to you that I will always love, honour and protect you. I need to tell you that we're on the edge of the struggle of our lives and I can't face it without you.'

'You are mine' she replied 'We stand together.'

'It's coming' he said seriously 'I can't hold off for much longer. We're being pressed too hard by the Tans and it'll be a long day before I bow down before their kind.'

'When?'

'After the wedding love. We have it all planned' He looked gravely at her as she felt tears stinging her eyes. 'Bella a chara, we have to fight. This is our land and by God we'll take it back.'

'You will, and we'll succeed.' She answered fiercely, "I'll be with you body and soul. I swear by Saint Brendan and Saint Patrick, I will stand by you no matter what comes.'

'God smiled on me the day we met' Edward leaned down and kissed his love. Smiling at each other and strong in their faith, they turned and made their way down the mountain. Whatever came, they would face it together.

 **Happy St Patrick's Day everyone! Beannachtai na feile Padraig ort! Wherever you are in the world, be a little bit Irish today!**


	29. A Change of Plan?

The destruction surrounding the small cottage was unimaginable. What had once had been a neat, whitewashed family sanctuary was now like a scene from a nightmare: Glass from smashed window panes scattered the ground like ice, broken chairs, their wooden skeletons twisted and jagged haunted the tiny garden and, worse of all, a statue of the Blessed Virgin, a family treasure was barely recognizable from the pieces littering the path. In the middle of the chaos, the woman of the house, Kathleen, stood wailing. Her shawl was wrapped tightly around her, a feeble barrier against the cruelties of the world and two small children clung to her skirts, their tiny heads buried deep in the fabric.. Without a second thought, Esme strode up the path and enveloped the family in her arms.

"They came last night' Kathleen gasped through large, racking sobs. "The Tans. They took Eamon. Didn't they drag him out of the house like an animal, kicking him the whole time? God help us it was terrible. Blessed Mother forgive me but they're monsters…" Her voice failed and she collapsed, wailing, into Esme's arms.

Over the heads of the family, Esme's eyes met those of her son. Edward looked at her somberly, his face dark with determination. The Tans would pay for this, and for every outrage they had committed. He'd make sure of that.

"Musha, musha" she crooned to Kathleen "sure and won't Jasper bring him back? We'll look after you a chara." Looking around the scene of devastation, she continued. "Now you'll come home with us, isn't it plenty of space we have now?" Seeing two sets of wide eyes staring at her from tear stained faces, she bent slightly and added "Sure look at you two strong fellas, aren't you the brave boys altogether? Will you come home with me? And won't you look after your mammy now?"

"We will" said the larger of the two boys, voice resolute. Esme's sighed to herself. What kind of world were they living in when little innocents were witness to man's brutality.

Edward was silent on the way home, his jaw tightly clenched. Leaving his mother at the house, he drove directly to the town, drawing up outside Bella's door.

Bella, half way through darning what appeared to be more hole than sock, leaped out of her chair as Kitty answered the door. Seeing the terrifying look of sheer rage on Edward's face, she froze, searching his face for clues of what might have happened.

"Blessings of God on this house. Sit down girls, I've to talk to you both."

Glancing at each other in bemusement, the two cousins sat automatically. This was a side of Edward that Bella had known about but had never seen: the leader, the man of action.

"We need to act" he started, his voice low. "You know who we are?"

Both girls nodded. The Irish Republican Brotherhood. Now the Irish Republican Army. Edward, the regional Commander. Oh they knew alright and didn't they lie awake at night, knowing that he and his comrades were roaming the hills, rifles in hand, harassing the English wherever they could?

Looking straight at Bella, he continued "Bella a stor, when you told me that you would fight with me, you made me the happiest man in Ireland. The time has come a chara. We need to stand. We can't wait until the Tans start burning the town like they did in Cavan. We're going to seal off the area and hit them hard. God help me, I don't want to do this but I need you to help."

"We'll delay the wedding" said Bella firmly though her heart twisted at the thought.

Startled, Edward say up straight in his chair, light from the turf bunting merrily in the grate catching the fire in his eyes.

"Yerra not at all! We'll bring it forward. Next week. Marrying you will be the most sacred and the most wonderful moment of my life… and using our honeymoon as a cover will bring about the downfall of the English!" The girls gasped, listening in fascinated glee as Edward outlined his plans. Finally, as he paused to let the full import of his perfect idea sink in, Bella spoke:

"Edward. The day I met you, it was as though my heart had finally healed. The English killed my parents. There. I've said it. Now I don't seek revenge, I don't hate them. Sure and aren't the soldiers for the most part decent men sent over here through no choice of their own? The Tans though, those dregs of the world, those miserable thugs, they have no place in our country. Our marriage will be the best day of my life and knowing that we are freeing our land of this poisonous growth will only add to my joy."

Rising from her chair and moving over to where he sat, Bella lay her hand on Edwards shoulder. Feeling his shoulders rising and falling through the rough tweed of his jacket, she bent and whispered in his ear.

"I give myself to you and to Ireland body and soul."

Feeling the warm breath against his ear and the whisp of her plait against his face, Edward turned slowly towards her. Looking deep into her face he smiled, and to Bella it was as though the sun had emerged from the clouds, lighting the grey waters of the bay.

"Praise be to God and to Ireland. A gra mo chroi, you'll be there next week so?"

"I will. Waiting with Father Moran for you to make me the happiest woman in all Ireland." Bella paused, a wicked smile dancing across her face "and the wife of the best rebel leader Kerry has ever seen!"

Gazing deep into each others' eyes, the two lovers barely noticed Kitty slipping out of the kitchen to start organizing. Less than a week before the wedding! So much to do. And, Kitty reflected as she started folding sheets, only a week before the Tans found out what the consequences were of trying to bully Kerrymen. Smiling happily to herself, she started whistling as down below in the kitchen, Edward and Bella sat entwined, dreaming of the future. Whatever it might bring.

AN: I am so sorry for the delay! Did you know that you could get pneumonia and then bronchitis? Well you can! Back now and I will update regularly. And next, the wedding!


	30. In the Grocer's Shop

Pat Lynch's grocery was packed to the rafters as Kitty slipped in, joining the throng of shoppers unnoticed. It was a dingy day outside and the warm air of the shop was comforting after the sharp bite of the wind. The comforting fug of pipe tobacco, wet wool and turf an atmosphere as familiar as the glass fronted boxes of biscuits, pyramids of tea and hanging sticky brown paper fly catchers, their pristine surfaces a tribute to the cleanliness of the shop. Wedged between an Island woman wrapped deep in a black shawl and the non too clean second best suit of Seamus Lawlor, Kitty tuned into the conversation. It wasn't difficult as a shrill voice, easily identifiable as that of town gossip Mrs Quilter, dominated the conversation.

"Sure and didn't I tell ye that it was too good to be true? Oh the brass face of them swanning around the town. And now to have to bring forward a wedding like that. And him a doctor! Sure the young ones now, they know no shame!" Her chins shook in self righteous indignation.

The crowd of shoppers took an intake of breath. Kitty felt herself puff up with fury but, before she could speak, a slow voice rose above the mutterings.

"Yerra Marie, doesn't it seem like yesterday that I heard you own mammy, God rest her soul saying the self same thing? And wasn't it a wonderful miracle altogether that your own Liam was born three months after your wedding? Sure God moves in wonderful ways."

Setting back her shoulders like an indignant hen, Mrs Quilter shouldered her way through the crowd, face blazing as the howls of laughter followed her out of the shop. Kitty's neighbour turned towards her,

"God's blessing on you a chara. Ye do your messages and go home now and tell that cousin of yours that we're proud of her. Don't we all know that the wedding is being brought forward for so the lads can strike back? Well now, Marie Quilter always had a poor mouth on her, ah but sure doesn't she have a hard life now the poor auld thing? God be good to her and grant her happiness." Raising his voice above the chatter, he shouted "Pat Lynch look out there now. Isn't Miss Kitty in a hurry to do her messages? Stop gossiping like an auld one and help her out that she can get back!"

Mortified, Kitty slunk through the crowd, her heart leaping as she heard the muttered comments of "God bless you now" and "Blessings of the Blessed Mary and Saint Brigid on you and your cousin". Clutching her packages, she finally managed to escape and race back home, followed by the shouts of well wishers as she went.. Say what you like, living in a small town was more of a blessing than a curse. Panting up the steep hill, she pushed the door open with relief. The feeling was short lived as a plaintive voice floated down the stairs to greet her.

"Kitty a stor! Thanks be to God that you're here! Help me out of this dress! Sure and I've spent the last half hour trying to undo the buttons!"

Running up the stairs two by two, Kitty ground to a halt at the door of Bella's room. Standing in the middle of the small bedroom, her cousin had been transformed. The satin of her dress shone brightly in the afternoon sunlight and the lace around her next was delicate against her pale skin. The dress flowed down her body, a waterfall of shimmering and iridescent fabric and the delicate lace veil, a treasured family heirloom was a cobweb of delicate flowers over the cloud of her hair. Kitty caught her breath.

"By Mary and the blessed saints, you look like an angel!" She gasped. Bella laughed.

"I tell you now a chara, I would trade in this fine dress in a heartbeat and marry Edward in my old tweed suit if he wanted! Sure the day is nothing to me. All I want is for Father Moran to make us man and wife and the rest of this is nonsense."

"It's at moments like this that the souls of the dear departed are close to us. Your mammy and daddy, may they rest in peace, are looking down on us. I know."

Bella chin lifted.

"I know it too. Daddy would be so happy today. Edward is everything he could ever have hoped for, gentle, brave and a patriot."

"And that he's a find lookin man wouldn't do any harm there now!" added Kitty, slyly.

Laughing, the two cousins embraced before Kitty managed to unbutton Bella and the dress was returned to its hanger. Around the room lay piles of cases and boxes, ready to be taken to the Cullen house where the two girls would spend the night. The car would come later but the girls had another plan. Dressing hastily and jamming their hats on, they made for the door. Bella paused on the threshold, looking around the small cottage which had been her happy home since the death of her parents. They had laughed here, cried too, sometimes quarreled but it had been a haven and a happy home. And now she was embarking on a new life. Thinking of Edward, her stomach tightened. He would be a good husband but oh, the mixture of desire and fear was overwhelming. Taking a deep breath, she muttered a quick goodbye to the cottage and closed the latch for the last time.

Walking sedately down the road, boots crunching on the ground, the two cousins made their way to the church. Their eyes quickly readjusted to the dim interior, even after the slow light of the late afternoon it was cool and dark in the church. Candles flickered in front of the statue of the Blessed Virgin and a red light indicated that Father Moran was hearing confessions. Heading to the pew closest to the confessional, the cousins genuflected and blessed themselves, sinking down on their knees and in a reverie until a sharp cough from the confessional indicated that Father Moran was ready. Nudging Bella with her elbow, Kitty indicated the box with a tilt of her chin and Bella rose obediently, ready to make a good confession before her wedding. She would come to Edward pure in every way.

Emerging from the box a scant ten minutes later, Bella knelt in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary and offered up prayers to her parents. The statue of the Virgin,, dressed in her royal blue cloak, strewn with stars, seemed to look at her with pity and compassion.

"Daddy and Mammy. I know that you are safe with God and it's wrong to want you here but I miss you. I wish you could know Edward. He's such a good man. He's everything Daddy was to you Mammy. He makes me smile and he makes me feel safe. God grant that we are all together one day but please, until that day, watch over me and bless me." Tears running down her face, she lit a candle and then, taking a deep breath, turned to Kitty who had joined her.

"I'm ready to be married!" And taking her cousin's hand, she led her out of the church towards the Big House where she would spend her last night as a single woman. Tomorrow she would be Edward's wife no longer alone but part of a large, tumultuous but happy family. Thanks be to God for such joy! Smiling to each other, the two cousins linked arms and skipped along the road which led to the Cullen house. Home!

AN Gosh aren't we a sickly bunch! I am so sorry that everyone has been ill. God willing that is it for the flu season now! And next… A wedding!


End file.
